


Wicked Game

by ladyxa



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Crime Scenes, Dark, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder Husbands, Sassy Will Graham, Slow Burn, Someone Help Will Graham, hannibal is a thirsty bitch, until he is, will is having none of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-02-13 15:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 69,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyxa/pseuds/ladyxa
Summary: Will Graham is a special consultant for the FBI, and he hates it. Hannibal Lecter is a well known and sought after psychiatrist, who seems to have taken an interest in Will and invites him for dinner. Meanwhile, the Chesapeake Ripper keeps on ripping, and Will knows the time to find him is running out, fast.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU but Will is still a consultant and Hannibal is still a psychiatrist. The story just goes a little differently (read: a lot differently.) This is my first attempt at a Hannibal fic so I'm very eager to know what you guys think! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy. xxx

Chapter 1

“What’s this?” Will Graham looked down at Jack Crawford’s outstretched hand, holding a crisp, cream envelope with his name on it.

“An invitation,” Jack replied with raised eyebrows.

Will looked up at him, before turning his eyes to Jack’s shoulder. “From?”

Jack sighed, putting the envelope on the desk. “An acquaintance of mine. Dr. Lecter. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

Will frowned, looking down at the envelope. He racked his brain, the name did ring a bell. “Dr. Lecter, the psychiatrist?”

“That’s the one.”

The confirmation of who it was did nothing to quell Will’s confusion. “Why the hell do I have an invitation? What’s it for, anyway?”

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” When Jack saw that Will intended to do no such thing, he sighed. “I may or may not have occasionally broached the subject of your employment at the FBI. He seems to have taken an interest.”

Will scoffed. “An interest. You mean he wants to have an opportunity to pick my brain. Psycho-analyze me.”

Before Jack could reply, he added, “And what employment? I’m a teacher. You just come along and drag me into things.”

_And fuck up my day_ , he thought, but he was smarter than to actually voice that.

“It’s not like I tie you up and drag you to a crime scene –” Jack stopped himself, obviously not wanting to repeat a frequently held discussion. “Take it as a compliment, Will. Dr. Lecter is an incredibly respectable man. And one of the most sought-after psychiatrists. He’s written multiple articles for various –”

“Yeah, yeah. I should take it as a compliment that a man such as him would find me interesting,” Will said bitterly, finally taking the envelope and opening it.

The handwriting was very elegant, exactly what he expected from ‘such a respectable man.’ His eyes scanned over the words, inviting him to dinner this Friday. Signed, Dr. H. Lecter. Will made a face.

“Who else has he invited?”

Jack crossed his arms. “Me, Dr. Bloom, and Dr. Chilton.”

Will shuddered. Alana Bloom had on various occasions tried to dig into his mind. Unfortunately, he had allowed it a little since he had been head over heels for her. They had kissed a couple of times, but not too long after it became apparent that Will’s feelings weren’t reciprocated due to the fact that he was unstable. She hadn’t actually said that, of course, but Will wasn’t stupid. They had both decided it was better not to be more than acquaintances from then on.

And Dr. Chilton was just a nightmare cloaked in an incredibly big ego.

Will crumpled the paper in his hand, tossing it into the trash. “I don’t think so.”

Jack sighed again. It seemed to be all he did nowadays. “Will –”

“No. I know exactly what’s going to happen if I go. I’m going to be surrounded by psychiatrists who want nothing more than to find out exactly how I tick – I’ll be the star of the show. Bloom tried, Chilton has expressed on various occasions how much he wanted to try – and Dr. Lecter will be exactly the same. No thanks.”

Jack frowned, not being able to argue. “Are you going to decline his invitation, or should I do that for you?”

Will shrugged. “Do what you want, Jack. Since you’re the one that gave me the invitation, it would be perfectly fitting to be the one to decline it as well. Either way, I’m not going to be replying.”

Jack took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll send him a note.”

Will crossed his arms, rocking on his heels. “Are we done here?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we are. Go home. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

With that, he was dismissed. He grabbed his coat and left the building, shivering slightly as the cold air blasted into his face. He quickly made his way to his car, throwing his briefcase into the passenger seat before driving home. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel, his head full of thoughts about the Chesapeake Ripper. He had struck again, a week ago, and Will knew he would strike again soon. The elusive serial killer had been the entire reason Will had been hunted down by Jack in the first place. After his altercation with Garett Jacob Hobbs – the man who killed girls who looked like his daughter – he had refused to keep working with the FBI. He had been forced to kill the man, but not before Hobbs had slit his wife’s and daughter’s throat. His dreams were still haunted with the sound of Abigail Hobbs’ screams and Garett Jacob Hobbs’ dying words – “See? See?”

Will clenched his jaw, hands tightening on the steering wheel. Stop. Concentrate.

The Chesapeake Ripper’s last, and first in a while, had been impaled on various tools from his workshop. Organs had been removed with surgical precision. The man had been presented as a work of art, obviously referring to the Wound Man. Everything about it screamed the Chesapeake Ripper.

Will had given classes about the Ripper, encouraging his students to profile him. Everyone said the same. A picture-perfect sociopath. No empathy, manipulative, etcetera etcetera. But something about that rubbed Will the wrong way. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it, though.

He arrived at his small house in Wolf Trap, Virginia, and was greeted enthusiastically by his pack of dogs. He returned the attention with a smile, making sure to pet each dog before heading to his kitchen. He microwaved some leftovers, grabbed a beer, and settled himself in front of the tv. He had a day off tomorrow so he looked forward to enjoying a night of drinking and doing nothing. A day off from teaching, that was. He hoped Jack wouldn’t call him in the morning with news.

////////////////

As it turned out, Jack didn’t call. That didn’t mean Will woke up well-rested, though. His night had been awful – nightmares waking him up every hour, drenched in sweat and trembling. For the umpteenth time, he cursed Jack for dragging him back into this shit. Although, if he was being very honest with himself, he knew that sacrificing his mental health to save people’s lives was something he was choosing for. At the end of the day, he was saving people. That was what mattered.

He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he should just spend the rest of the day sleeping. Eventually, arguing with himself that this night would then be even worse, he got out of bed and wandered into the living room. He fed the dogs and glanced out the window, wondering if it would start snowing soon. He walked over to his front door, stooping down to collect his mail. One letter made him pause. He recognised the elegant handwriting and an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach. He considered just throwing it away, but curiosity got the better of him and he went to the couch, sitting down before opening the letter.

_Dear Mr. Graham,_

_Our friend Jack Crawford has informed me that you will not be attending this Friday. Although I can’t say I’m entirely surprised, I can’t deny I am somewhat disappointed. I assure you, there were no ulterior motives to inviting you. Jack has voiced your reasons for not attending. Undoubtedly, I find you interesting, and would like to make your acquaintance. That does not mean to say I wish to be your psychiatrist, or use you as a subject for a psychological article. I merely wish to get to know you.  
Hopefully this will have changed your mind about attending. I am eager to hear your response. _

_Kind regards,  
H. Lecter_

Will read the letter, and read it again. _I merely wish to get to know you_. That was… awfully forward. He noticed that he hadn’t signed it ‘Dr. H. Lecter’ this time. Just H. Lecter. Will wondered what that meant.

He crumpled up the paper. Nothing. It meant he was trying to manipulate him by being more familiar with him. That’s what it meant. Fucking shrinks.

Will tossed the crumpled piece of paper across the room with a vengeance.

He spent the rest of the day in bed, despite his earlier reasoning.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He was in the middle of a lecture the next day, when Jack burst the doors open, making several students – and Will – jump.

“Class dismissed!” Jack barked, and there were a few seconds of frozen confusion before the students hastily packed their things and rushed out.

Will sighed, leaning against his desk and crossing his arms. “You really shouldn’t do that.”

“If it could wait, I wouldn’t.”

“There’s been another one.”

Jack nodded.

“Is it the Ripper?”

“No. We don’t think so. You coming?”

Will stared dejectedly at his notes before nodding.

Some time later, he was staring at a family of corpses. Two children, a mother and a father, with their heads in their plates and bullet holes in their heads. Each one was facing down, except the mother. She seemed to be staring right at him with empty eyes, unaware of the various flies that buzzed around her.

“What do you see, Will?” Jack asked quietly.

Will closed his eyes. The pendulum swung.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“How does someone manipulate a child into killing his own family?” Jack mused, staring at the board covered in pictures.

Will rubbed his eyes, feeling exhaustion pulling him down. “By being manipulative,” he deadpanned.

At Jack’s glare, he sighed. “Sorry. Any information on the others?”

They were interrupted by the door opening.

“I’m sorry, but there’s a man claiming to have been invited by you, Agent Crawford –”

“Ah, yes. That’s right. Go ahead and let him in here.”

Will froze, turning to Jack. “Who?”

Jack glanced at him before turning back to the board. “Dr. Lecter,” he said after a moment of silence.

Will shot up from his seat, already grabbing his coat.

“Will, wait –”

“Why, Jack?” Will snapped.

“Calm down. I invited him to help with the case. This isn’t the first time he’s consulted for us, you know. That’s how I came into contact with him in the first place.”

“You just conveniently forgot to mention it,” Will said angrily.

“I thought you wouldn’t come if I told you –”

“You were right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Will walked through the hall as quickly as possible, keeping his head down, irrationally nervous to run into Dr. Lecter. In his mission to avoid everyone, though, he walked right into someone. He bounced back with an ‘oomph’, looking up to see who he had almost thrown onto the ground.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t –” he stopped.

The man before him was regarding him with amused interest, dressed impeccably in a tweed suit, his hair neatly combed and parted.

“Mr. Graham,” the man said, his voice smoky and accented.

Will closed his eyes briefly, not believing his luck. “Let me guess. Dr. Lecter.”

Dr. Lecter nodded, once, clasping his hands behind his back.

Will sighed, deciding to be somewhat polite. “I’m sorry for walking into you. I was… in a hurry.”

“To avoid me, I’m sure?” Dr. Lecter quipped, tilting his head.

Will let out a little nervous laugh, looking at Dr. Lecter’s shoulder. Sparing Will from trying to deny it, Dr. Lecter spoke again.

“Did you receive my letter?”

Will grit his teeth. He knew he’d received it, the pretentious prick. “Yes.”

Dr. Lecter raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth tilted slightly upwards. “But your decision remains the same?”

Will ran his hands through his hair. “Yes. I’m afraid I’m not the type for dinner parties. Thank you for the invitation, though.” He congratulated himself silently on his politeness.

“It’s not a dinner party,” was the amused reply.

“No, it’s just a dinner, hosted by you, with multiple guests,” Will snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“You’re afraid you’re going to be the subject of entertainment,” Dr. Lecter stated kindly.

“Yeah.”

“Not a fan of eye-contact?”

Will glared up at him, meeting his gaze for just a second before letting it fall down again. “Apparently not.”

“Are you not a very sociable person, Mr. Graham?”

Will laughed bitterly, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with the edge of his shirt. “You could say that. Another reason I declined. A dinner party would require me to… be sociable.”

“What if I could promise that you would not be scrutinised or analysed?”

Will frowned. “How?”

Dr. Lecter smiled, flashing a pair of pointed canines. “With ease. Would your answer change?”

Will shifted uncomfortably, hating being put on the spot like this.

“I… don’t know. Maybe.”

“Then consider it done.”

“Why do you want me there so badly?” Will asked then, narrowing his eyes.

Dr. Lecter smiled again. “I would have thought my letter had explained that. Regardless, I find you very interesting. And I would like to get to know you.”

Will froze slightly at the last sentence. It had been forward in the letter, and now, when it was actually being said to him, he didn’t know how to respond.

“I should go and see Agent Crawford. Will you be joining us?”

Will shook his head. There was no way he was going to be to discuss a case with him and Jack as if they were colleagues that did this all the time.

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.”

Will looked up sharply. “You don’t take no for an answer, do you, Dr. Lecter?”

Dr. Lecter raised an eyebrow, his expression as amused as it had been for the entire conversation. “I’m afraid I don’t. And Hannibal, please.”

“I’m not comfortable being in a room with Alana and Frederick. I have… a history with the both of them,” Will snapped.

Hannibal leaned forward, his hand resting lightly on Will’s arm. “Then I shall do my utmost to make you comfortable.”

Will looked blankly on the hand on his arm, before jerking his arm away.

“Fine,” he muttered, before moving past Hannibal and briskly walking away.

When he got to his car, he threw in his briefcase angrily, sitting in his seat for a while. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had been forced to say yes, just to get out of that awkward fucking conversation. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself be played like that. He punched his steering wheel. _Fucking_ shrinks.

He thought of Hannibal’s – Dr. Lecter’s – sudden hand on his arm, and shuddered. He comforted himself by reminding himself that he could always just say he was sick – it was Wednesday, perfectly plausibly to fall ill on Friday.

Strangely, he realised he was considering playing a very odd game. Him telling Dr. Lecter he was sick would be an obvious lie, and Dr. Lecter would know it. He wondered if he would call him out on it, or just continue to try and meet. He wondered if Dr. Lecter would give up, eventually.   
He felt slightly pleased at the thought.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing, and he shook himself before answering it.

“Will Graham.”

“Hi, Will.”

He froze, slowly pursing his lips. “Alana?”

“How are you?” came her friendly voice, not heard for a long time.

“I’m… fine. Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“I know,” she said kindly. “I heard that Dr. Lecter invited you to dinner on Friday, as well. I thought we’d catch up a little.”

“I’m not going,” Will said coldly.

Alana laughed quietly. “Can’t say I’m surprised. It’s too bad, though. I would have liked to see you again.”

Will pinched the bridge of his nose. “Then you could have called me anytime you liked.”

Alana was quiet for a moment. “Will, you know –” came her careful voice before she was interrupted by Will.

“That you don’t want to be in a room alone with me, yeah.”

“You know I care about you, Will. I just think it’s best.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m gonna go now.”

“Will –”

“Bye, Alana.”

He hung up.

As he was driving, he received a message from Alana which he read at a red light. It said that she didn’t want them to lose contact, and if he was sure he wasn’t going to Lecter’s dinner on Friday she would love to have coffee sometime soon. Will sighed, feeling guilty at how he snapped at her. He didn’t think Alana had a bad bone in her body. Him, on the other hand…

He paused, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He texted Jack the next morning, asking him if Lecter would be attending their meeting. Jack assured him that no, he wouldn’t. So Will agreed to come by again, ending his lecture early.

The day was rather uneventful, not making much progress in the case, frustratingly enough. He ended up having coffee with Beverly, the one person he could count on not twisting around things and saying what she thought, while still being kind.

“So I heard Dr. Lecter’s taken an interest in you,” she said, blowing gently into her cup.

Will rolled his eyes, avoiding hers. “Apparently.”

She grinned at him. “I met him yesterday. I liked him.”

“Good for him,” Will muttered.

“You going to his dinner?”

He snorted. “No. If he thinks I’m going to sit there and be treated like some sort of circus animal…”

Beverly raised her eyebrows in understanding. “Well, I think you’ll be missing out. Apparently everyone knows about his dinner parties. He’s a great chef, I’ve heard.”

“Of course he is. What can’t that man do,” Will said bitterly.

“Get Will Graham to come to dinner,” Beverly quipped, and they shared a smile.

“He’s so pretentious. You know he sent us letters to invite us? And then he sent me another letter when he knew I wasn’t going to come. Just send a fucking e-mail, it’s not the 19th century.”

Beverly laughed. “What makes you think he owns a laptop?”

Will snorted into his coffee. “Good point. Probably doesn’t even know what e-mail is.”

“I think he’s a vampire, born somewhere in the Middle Ages and having trouble adapting to life in the 2000’s. That would explain the suits and letter writing and his general… attitude,” Beverly continued.

Will chuckled, grateful for her company. “That or he was born like 200 years ago, and accidentally time travelled to now.”

“He arrived last week,” Beverly snorted.

They both laughed quietly, holding their coffee cups in front of their mouths.

“Anyway. It’s a shame you’re not going, I would have loved to hear what his house is like.”

“Nosy,” Will reprimanded.

“What are you going to tell him?”

Will took a careful sip of his coffee. “That I’m sick.”

“Original. He’ll never suspect you’re lying,” Beverly said, rolling her eyes.

Will shrugged. “That’s his problem. I told him I didn’t want to go, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So I guess I have to resort to lying.”

“Fair enough. Who else were invited?”

“Besides Jack, Bloom and Chilton.”

Beverly swallowed her coffee. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

They both turned their heads at Jimmy Price calling out Beverly’s name. “Katz! We need you in here. Hey, Will.”

“Hey.”

“I’ll see you later. Give ‘em a big ‘fuck you’ and order a pizza tomorrow,” Beverly advised him before following Price.

Will smiled to himself, deciding that that was exactly what he was going to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. First off I'd like to thank everyone for their comments, kudo's and bookmarks. They honestly give me so much motivation to keep writing, and I appreciate them so much!!
> 
> Secondly, you'll notice further in the fic that while I do refer to the murders from the tv series, I don't actually go into detail about them, or Will profiling the killers, or Will being at the crime scene etc. That's because, for this fic, I don't feel that they have much importance for the story itself, while of course they are a part of Will's life. So that's why I do mention them but don't go into detail. (this won't be the case for all of them, but you'll find out about that soon.) 
> 
> Anyhoo, thank you for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoy!!

Chapter 2

Apparently, Dr. Lecter did have an e-mail, which Will found, thanks to Google. That just made the whole letter writing thing even more pretentious. Will bit down his annoyance, cracking his fingers as they hovered above the keyboard of his laptop.

_Dear Dr. Lecter,_

He backspaced.

_Dr. Lecter,_

That was better.

_I’m afraid I won’t be able to attend dinner tomorrow, after all. I’ve fallen ill. Thanks anyway for the invitation._

_Will Graham_

He pressed the send button before he could change his mind. It was a bit rude, but then again, so was Lecter’s ambush. And his question about eye-contact. And his question about being sociable. Thinking back he just became angry all over again, and he stood up from his laptop, stretching.

He sent a text to Jack, asking if Lecter was going to be at the office tomorrow, and again the answer was no. Will sighed. He wouldn’t have to call in sick to work as well, then. He was sure Jack would keep quiet.

He spent the rest of the night switching between the Ripper’s files and the most recent murders, his head aching and whisky burning his throat.

Little children holding stag’s heads dripping with blood haunted his dreams.

He was awoken the following morning – at the crack of fucking dawn – by a sharp knocking on his door. He glanced down at his sweat-soaked T-shirt and boxers, before deciding that whoever had the gall to come knocking at this time would just have to deal with him looking gross.

Will stumbled to the front door, his dogs barking excitedly. He opened the door and winced at the bright light, cold air making him shiver uncontrollably. That was until he realised who was actually standing there.

“Hello, Will,” Dr. Lecter said pleasantly. He gestured towards the Tupperwares he was holding. “I brought breakfast. May I come in?”

Will blinked at him, words failing him. Finally, he managed, “What are you doing here?”

“After your message, I became concerned. I decided to come by and bring some food. May I come in?” he repeated politely.

Will swallowed, standing aside to let Hannibal in. The latter walked straight to the kitchen, searching for plates and utensils; Will, in his dazed state, not helping him. When they had both sat down Will finally seemed to have gained his senses, and he leaned back, not touching the food.

“How the hell did you find out where I live?”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, expression neutral. “I asked Jack. That’s how I knew where to send the second letter. Does it bother you that I’m here?”

Will snorted. “ _Yes_. Why did you… what do you –”

“Like I said, Will, I was worried. You told me you were ill,” Hannibal said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Will took a sip of coffee. “I’m not.”

“I know,” Hannibal said pleasantly.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I wanted to see for myself. I thought you had agreed to come tonight, Will. What changed?”

Will scoffed. “I only agreed because you put me in a position where I couldn’t say no. I told you I didn’t want to go, you shouldn’t have pressed me like that.”

“You did,” Hannibal agreed. He nodded down to Will’s untouched plate. “Eat your breakfast, Will.”

As reluctant as Will was, he had to admit the scrambled eggs smelled irresistible. He grudgingly dug his fork into a small sausage, popping it into his mouth. Hannibal watched him with a small smile, before taking a bite from his own plate.

“Did you have any other plans for tonight?” Hannibal then asked after a few moments of silence.

Will pondered the question, before deciding to tell the truth. “My plans consisted of ordering a pizza and drinking in front of the tv until I passed out.”

“I hope this doesn’t offend, but it sounds like my dinner would be a bit more pleasant than that.”

“What are you cooking?”

“Liver,” Hannibal replied, taking a sip of coffee.

That reminded Will of the liver currently missing from the Ripper’s latest victim, and the food soured in his mouth.

“I don’t like liver,” he muttered.

Hannibal cocked his head. “Have you ever had it?”

“No,” Will admitted.

Hannibal chuckled. “Then you can’t know you don’t like it.”

“Dr. Lecter –”

“Hannibal.”

Will rolled his eyes. “ _Hannibal_ , I honestly don’t understand why you’re not letting this go. I don’t want to come, why are you trying to convince me?”

Hannibal eyed him, a curious expression on his face. “It’s rather impolite,” he said, but his voice only betrayed amusement.

“Well, I’m sorry. It’s just not who I am,” Will snapped, his face flushing.

Hannibal seemed to consider this, leaning back slightly. Will glanced up at him, meeting his eyes only for a couple of seconds before looking away again.

“I have a proposition for you,” Hannibal then said.

Will sighed, putting more egg into his mouth. “What would that be?”

“I’ll forgive you for not attending tonight –” Will snorted – “if you agree to have dinner with me alone, next week.”

Will looked up sharply. He studied his face to see if there was any form of mockery or sarcasm, but there was nothing but sincerity.

“Why?” he asked warily.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. “Do you keep forgetting what I wrote in – ah – that letter?” He gestured towards the crumpled piece of paper lying on the floor.

Will winced, he had completely forgotten about it; remembering sheepishly that he had kicked it into the kitchen in frustration. He glanced up, refusing to be embarrassed or apologetic. Hannibal met his eyes with a smirk.

“I’m having trouble believing you,” Will admitted.

“Is it so difficult to believe that someone would express genuine interest, in you as a person, as opposed to what you and your empathy disorder can achieve?”

Will swallowed. The words weren’t cruel, but they stung all the same.

“That’s one way of putting it, I guess.”

“Well. Rest assured, I am utterly interested in Will Graham, not Will Graham’s empathy disorder,” Hannibal said smoothly.

“Maybe I don’t find _you_ that interesting,” Will snapped, feeling flustered.

Hannibal paused, looking up slightly. “You will,” he said quietly, his mouth hinting at a smile.

Will swallowed, unsure how to reply to that. Eventually he sighed, and removed his glasses. “So. My options are come to dinner tonight and basically enact my nightmare, or have dinner with you some time next week because otherwise you’ll keep stalking me.”

Hannibal smiled. “Yes.”

Will rolled his eyes, putting his glasses on and adjusting them so that they hid his eyes. “That doesn’t leave me much choice, then.”

Hannibal reached over, startling Will. “May I?”

Without waiting for an answer, he moved Will’s glasses up so he couldn’t hide behind them anymore. He looked up tentatively, meeting Hannibal’s eyes. The latter flashed him a brilliant smile, letting his fingers linger for a while before pulling his hand back.

“How does Tuesday sound?” he then asked.

Will rubbed his forehead, feeling flustered. “Sure.”

“Eight?”

“Okay.”

“Excellent.”

Hannibal continued eating, a pleased expression on his face. Will leaned back, not sure how he felt about this. Hannibal had won. A part of him scolded himself for being so childish, and another part of him felt… well, he didn’t exactly know.

His head started thumping, and he stood up to grab some aspirin, knocking it back with a glass of water.

“Although I didn’t believe your e-mail, when I saw you open the door I must admit I thought I may have been wrong. You don’t look very well,” Hannibal commented, frowning slightly.

Will looked down at his – still sweat-stained – T-shirt, and shrugged, leaning against the counter. “I had a bad night.”

“Is that a regular occurrence?”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “Working with Jack, it is, yes.”

Hannibal stood, carrying the empty plates to the sink. “And is Jack aware of this?”

Will rubbed the back of his neck. “To some extent.”

Hannibal looked at him, something resembling concern crossing his features. “And yet he keeps pulling you in?”

Will gave a bitter laugh. “And yet he keeps pulling me in.”

After a moment of silence, Will felt he needed to defend Jack, somehow. “I mean, it’s nothing compared to the lives we’re saving. Some nightmares and a few headaches doesn’t take away from the fact that I’m saving people.”

“You’re prepared to sacrifice your health to help others,” Hannibal mused. “I can’t say it’s not worrying. How will you know when you’re in too deep, Will?”

Will swallowed. “I’ll know.”

A call from Jack rescued him.

“Graham.”

“Will, I need you here.”

Will pinched the bridge of his nose. “Has there been another one?”

Hannibal looked at him with interest.

“No,” came the answer. “But I need you here all the same. We might have figured out a pattern.”

Will hung up, turning to Hannibal.

“Duty calls,” Hannibal quipped, and Will nodded. “I’ll leave you to get ready.”

Hannibal walked towards the door, Will following him awkwardly.

“I look forward to having you for dinner,” Hannibal smiled.

Will nodded. “Thank you, for uh… breakfast.”

Hannibal nodded, giving Will a last look before opening the door and leaving.

Will got dressed in a daze, still not entirely sure about what had just happened. As he drove, a thought struck him. Had he just been asked on a date?

He shook his head, scoffing at himself. Of course not. It was just a dinner. Either way, he was glad to have escaped from tonight’s dinner, at the very least.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The day ended with him being held at gunpoint by an 11-year-old boy.

It was, arguably, one of his worst days. Jack had put an apologetic hand on his shoulder, which Will had shrugged off. He told Will not to go home just yet, instead to go to his office.

Jack sat before him, his fingers threaded together in front of his face.

“How are you, Will?”

Will snorted. “What do you think?”

Jack paused, sighing. “I need to know that you can stay with me, Will. I can’t have you being in too deep.”

Will thought back to the conversation with Hannibal this morning.

“I’ll know when I’m in too deep,” he muttered.

“Will you, though?”

Will narrowed his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

Jack sighed again, standing up. “I think maybe you should see someone. Someone to… be your lifeline, keep you grounded.”

Will stood as well. “Are you talking about a psychiatrist?”

Jack nodded, eyeing Will with caution. “I think it would be smart.”

“Fuck off,” Will snapped.

A moment of silence.

“I didn’t hear that,” Jack said quietly.

Will nodded. “You didn’t.”

Jack took a moment to compose himself before taking a deep breath. “At the end of the day, it’s your choice. I know Dr. Lecter would be –”

“No.” The word left Will’s lips forcefully.

Jack squinted at him. “Why not? He’s already expressed an interest in you –”

“And I’m hoping that interest isn’t purely professional.” He paused. “That’s not what I meant.”

Jack frowned at him.

“What I meant was, the interest he’s expressed isn’t in my psyche, necessarily. He’s not interested in being my psychiatrist.” Will fiddled with his shirt, looking down at his feet.

“How do you know that?” Jack asked curiously.

Will shrugged. “He told me.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’ll be attending dinner tonight?”

Will chuckled. “No.” He decided not to tell him about dinner next week, though.

“All right. Just… think about what I said,” Jack said, resignedly.

“I will,” Will replied solemnly. He wouldn’t.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

When he stepped outside, a bright flash disoriented him, making him stumble slightly. He blinked to see a woman standing in front of him with curly red hair and a camera clasped in her hands. She smiled at him and reached out a hand.

“Sorry, I forgot to turn the flash off. Freddie Lounds.”

Will stared at her hand, disgust evident on his face. “Freddie Lounds,” he repeated.

She nodded amiably, and he strode past her, walking to his car.

“You’re Will Graham, right? The special consultant?” she continued, following him.

“I’m not speaking to you,” he said shortly.

“Just a few questions, Mr. Graham. Let me tell people your side of the story,” Freddie said, eyes wide.

Will turned, frowning. “What story?”

Freddie blinked. “You haven’t heard?”

Will sniffed. “I don’t read Tattlecrime. It’s… tasteless.”

Freddie smiled sourly. “The story of how the only reason you’re able to catch these killers, is because you’re one yourself,” she replied sweetly.

Will stared at her. “That’s ridiculous.”

Freddie gestured to her camera. “Tell me why it’s ridiculous, Mr. Graham.”

“Fuck off,” he replied, and got into his car, driving off to leave her standing there.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

_‘IT TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE’_

He read the article, a cold feeling settling in his gut. She just… she really went all out. Garett Jacob Hobbs was in there, his mental breakdown afterwards was in there, the Chesapeake Ripper…

Will turned off his laptop. His hands were shaking, and he felt a bad headache coming on. Who knew his empathy disorder could turn people to believing he was a serial killer. He punched the wall, repeatedly, and had a brief fantasy of slitting Freddie Lounds’ throat. He shook his head, shocked at himself. His phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Will.”

He hesitated. “Alana.”

“…Have you read the article?”

Will didn’t reply, sitting down and examining his bleeding knuckles.

Alana sighed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Journalists will be journalists,” he said bitterly.

Alana scoffed. “That’s bullshit. Lounds is way out of line, and she knows it. Where did she even get all this information from?”

Will blinked, not used to hearing Alana swear. “I don’t know. She probably posed as a concerned civilian at crime scenes. I’d never seen her before, though. She asked me to do an interview today.”

“What? How dare she,” Alana said furiously. “I’m going to speak to Jack. This is not okay.”

“What’s Jack going to do about it?” Will sighed. His knuckles hurt.

“He’ll find a way. He’s going to hate this as much as we do, and we all hate Tattlecrime.”

They were quiet for a while, both breathing heavily. Alana then took a deep breath, calming herself.

“I’m guessing you’re still not coming to dinner tonight?”

Will snorted. “I didn’t want to go in the first place, and now with this out? Chilton will be like a dog with a bone.”

Alana sighed. “Good point.” He was glad she didn’t try to defend Chilton. They all knew what he was like. Then, “I’m sorry.”

Will blinked. “For what?”

“For… being quiet for so long. For Freddie Lounds doing this to you,” she said quietly.

Will gave a small smile, running his hands through his hair. “It’s fine. I never asked how you were doing.”

“I’m good. I’m seeing someone,” Alana replied, a smile in her voice.

Will was pleased to realise it didn’t hurt to hear that. Not anymore. “What’s he like?”

“ _She_ is amazing. Funny, smart, speaks her mind. I’m hoping you guys can meet some day.”

“I’m sure we will.”

They were silent for a while longer.

“So, coffee next week?” Alana piped up.

Will chuckled. “Sounds good. I’ll text you when I’m available.”

Alana laughed. “Same here.”

“Have fun at dinner tonight,” he then said carefully.

“Thank you. And Will –”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let Lounds get into your head. She’s a bad person, and she’d write anything for some publicity. You know that.”

“I do,” Will said ruefully.

“Okay. Bye, Will.”

Will hung up, sighing. He looked at his tv and at the bottle of whisky sitting on the table. He decided to be true to his words, and picked up his phone again to order a pizza.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This week's chapter is a bit early since I'm travelling tomorrow. Thank you so much for the feedback. Hope you enjoy, and merry christmas everyone!!

Chapter 3

“Freddie Lounds won’t be bothering you anymore, Will. You can trust me on that.”

Will had been called into Jack’s office on Monday, the article displayed on the computer screen.

“Unfortunately, we can’t get her to remove the article she already wrote. But don’t pay it any attention. This will blow over,” Jack said reassuringly.

Will nodded. “I’m sure it will.”

Jack was quiet for a while, watching him. “You look like hell.”

Will barked a laugh. “Thanks.”

“Have you been sleeping okay?” Jack continued.

Will rubbed the back of his neck. “Not really. But that’s a given with me, isn’t it,” he said with a wry smile.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Jack said meaningfully. “Have you given any thought to what I said?”

Will sighed. “I have.” He hadn’t. “And my answer remains the same. I’m sick of people poking around in my head, Jack. And therapy doesn’t work on me. You know that.”

“It doesn’t work because you won’t let it work,” Jack argued.

“I did try. After…” he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Jack nodded sympathetically. “I know.”

They were both quiet for a while, thinking back to when Will had spent time in a mental hospital after the incident with Garett Jacob Hobbs. It hadn’t been a good time for either of them.

“Anyway. If your answer won’t change…”

“It won’t.”

Jack sighed. “Then I guess there’s not much I can do. Just tell me when things are too much. Promise me, Will.”

“I promise.”

Jack nodded, not completely satisfied but having to make do. “All right. That’s all.”

Will nodded back and left. He texted Beverly to see if she was there and wanted to have a quick coffee. He got a reply within minutes, asking him where.

“Freddie Lounds is a bitch,” she said as greeting, handing him a cup of coffee she’d already bought.

He gave her a small smile in thanks. “So you’ve read it too, then.”

“Kind of hard to avoid. It’s everywhere,” Beverly said apologetically.

Will didn’t reply, looking down at his coffee cup as they walked outside. Once they sat down on a bench, Will took a breath.

“So does that mean everyone in the office has read it?” He already knew the answer, but he couldn’t help but ask.

Beverly nodded, her eyes sympathetic. “Afraid so. People are talking…” she trailed off.

Will snorted. “That’s to be expected. What do Price and Zeller think?”

Beverly snorted. “They think it’s bullshit, of course. Anyone who personally knows you thinks it’s bullshit. You had a mental breakdown after killing one person, for god’s sake. I don’t know how you would manage to be a serial killer.”

Will shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Garett Jacob Hobbs, but appreciated the sentiment all the same.

“I just don’t know why she’s targeting me, all of a sudden. I don’t understand what I did to provoke this.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Nothing,” she said firmly. “She’s a reporter. You just caught her eye, and she latched onto you. She’s an unethical, lying, deceiving…” Beverly stopped, taking a breath. “Point is, it’s not your fault. No one important believes her, and this’ll blow over in no-time.”

Will looked at her gratefully. “Thanks, Beverly.”

She smiled and leaned back. “Got any plans this week?”

Will was glad for the subject change, although not necessarily the subject.

“I’m having coffee with Alana later today.”

“Oh?” Beverly said, eyebrows raised. “I thought you guys…”

“We weren’t. Talking. But she called me the other day and we decided to meet up.”

“That’s nice. How is she doing?”

“I think she’s good. She’s seeing someone.”

Beverly eyed him. “Is that okay?” she asked carefully.

Will nodded. “That’s okay.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

Will rubbed the back of his neck, pondering what to say next. “So, I’m having coffee with Alana…”

Beverly raised an eyebrow. “…And?”

_And that’s it. Just say ‘that’s it.’_

“And dinner with Lecter,” he finished ruefully, avoiding her eyes.

Beverly let out a surprised laugh. “What? I thought you weren’t at all interested in him?”

Will frowned, not liking her choice of words. “I’m not. He fucking came by my house on Friday to confront me about lying about being sick.”

Beverly paused. “That’s kind of creepy.”

“No, no. I said that wrong. He um… he actually brought breakfast and stuff. He was nice about it,” Will snorted. “Said he was worried and wanted to swing by to see if I was all right.”

“Yikes. Must have been awkward for you to open the door, looking completely fine.”

Will remembered how bad his night had been, and knew that he hadn’t looked completely fine. “It kind of was, yeah. Anyway, he basically let it slide if I came over for dinner next week. Alone.”

Beverly blew into her coffee cup, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “That sounds a lot like a –”

“It’s not a date,” Will snapped. “It’s just dinner.”

She raised her hands defensively, a grin tugging at her mouth. “All right, all right.”

They were quiet for a while, Will silently fuming at himself and Beverly.

“Want to hear something really crazy?” Beverly then said.

Will turned to her gratefully. “What?”

“Zeller asked me out,” she said with a disbelieving chuckle.

Will raised his eyebrows. “He did _what_?”

“Yeah, I don’t even know. It came completely out of the blue.”

Will knew that wasn’t true. He’d seen the way Zeller looked at her, and had been looking at her for the past few years. He’d wondered when he would take his chance. He’d wisely kept his mouth shut, though, knowing the merciless teasing he would have to endure from Price. Even Jack would get in on it, probably.

“What are you going to tell him?”

Beverly shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s kind of weird, you know? He’s my colleague, and we’ve always kind of picked on each other. I didn’t know he saw me that way.”

Will sniffed. “Well, if you’re interested, say yes. If you’re not, then don’t.”

Beverly snorted, punching him lightly on the arm. “Thanks a lot. Best advice I’ve ever gotten.”

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” Will replied innocently.

“But I don’t know if I’m interested,” she sighed.

Will shrugged. “So find out.”

“You think I should say yes?”

“If you’re not sure, that means it’s not a definite no. So I think you should say yes, see how you feel, and then work from then on.”

“Hmm. Maybe I will. I just don’t want things to be awkward if it doesn’t work out, you know?”

Will nodded. “I know. But I’m sure Price will make up for any awkwardness.”

She chuckled. “If he finds out, he’s going to be the reason for any awkwardness.”

He smiled, agreeing. Beverly stood up, throwing her coffee cup into the trash and clapping her hands together. “Right. I’ll say yes. If it turns out to be shit, we’re never speaking of this again. Agreed?”

Will nodded solemnly. “Agreed.”

“Okay, I’ve got to get going. Have fun with Alana. And Dr. Lecter,” she added with a wink, before leaving him alone on the bench.

He sighed, his breath coming out in a white cloud. He was doing his best not to think about tomorrow. If he did he just felt nervous and apprehensive. He had to admit, multiple times the thought had crossed his mind that this was all just some elaborate joke and Lecter and Chilton and whoever else were having a good laugh about it. He’d turn up tomorrow, wearing his best clothes and carrying a bottle of wine, and the door would open to a surprised Dr. Lecter barely being able to contain his laughter. _‘You didn’t actually think I was serious, did you?’_ Somewhere Will knew it was ridiculous, and somewhat paranoid, but that scenario seemed a lot more likely than someone like him actually having an interest in him.

Will groaned as a sharp pain made its way into his head. All this worrying wasn’t doing much for his headaches, he decided, and he got up and went to his car.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“It’s good to see you, Will,” Alana said, smiling broadly as he sat down at the table.

Will smiled back. “You too. You look well.”

She really did, her hair shorter now than it used to be, wearing a smart suit and red lipstick. She had a certain glow that she didn’t have before. It suited her well.

Alana smiled ruefully. “I wish I could say the same.”

Will blinked, then snorted. “Ouch.”

“You look as if you haven’t slept in days. Are you okay?”

Will stopped himself from rolling his eyes. They had literally sat down together for a minute. “I’m _fine_ , Alana. Please stop worrying about me.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s what I do.”

Will gave her a small smile. “I know.”

“So how are you? How’s life?” she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“I’m fine. Life’s fine. I’m helping Jack out again, which you know. So that’s keeping me pretty busy.”

Alana nodded. “How are the dogs?” she asked with a smile.

Will returned it. “They’re good. How’s your girlfriend?”

Alana chuckled, looking into her coffee cup. “That makes it sound so teenage-y. She’s good. Her name’s Margot.”

“How did you two meet?”

“I was actually her brother’s therapist for a while. He’s a bad egg. I’ll tell you some other time.”

Will nodded, noting her reluctance about the subject. She looked up.

“What about you?”

Will blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah. Are you seeing anyone?”

Will snorted, feeling his face turn slightly pink. “No, no I’m not. Don’t have the time for it.”

“That’s a shame. You’re a catch,” she said with a wink, and they both chuckled.

“How was uh… Dr. Lecter’s dinner party?” Will then asked, carefully avoiding her eyes.

“It was really nice. The food was absolutely delicious, and Dr. Lecter is the most gracious host ever,” Alana said with a smile.

Will nodded. “I expected that.”

“Still glad you weren’t there?”

Will nodded again, smiling ruefully.

Alana hummed, taking a sip of her coffee. “I think you were right not to come.”

He looked up sharply. “Oh?”

“Yeah. It was Chilton, mainly,” Alana sighed.

Will rolled his eyes. “Of course it was. Discover anything particularly interesting about my state of mind?”

Alana chuckled. “Well, he tried. He definitely did. On multiple occasions, he would bring you up, obviously eager to discuss you with me and Dr. Lecter. But he kept shutting him down.”

Will glanced up. “Who, Jack?”

“No. Well, him too. He’s not very good at hiding his annoyance,” Alana said with a smile.

Will snorted. “No, he isn’t.” He felt a pang of gratefulness towards Jack.

“I was actually talking about Dr. Lecter. Whenever Chilton brought you up, and even Jack couldn’t shut him up, he would intercede.”

Will stared at his cup, trying not to appear too interested. “What did he say?”

Alana took a breath, shrugging slightly. “It’s difficult to remember exactly. But things among the lines of it not being appropriate, or ‘let’s turn to subjects more suitable for the occasion’, or just changing the subject himself. He was perfectly polite about it.”

He swallowed down a big gulp of coffee. Alana laughed slightly before he could reply.

“Once, I think he even steered Chilton’s attempts back to Chilton’s psyche. Something about sounding slightly obsessed with you.” She chuckled into her cup. “Frederick did not like that at all.”

“I imagine he was perfectly polite about that, too,” Will said carefully, smiling slightly.

Alana nodded. “Of course he was. Hannibal Lecter is nothing if polite. Even when he’s in the company of someone who’s obviously less so.”

Will tilted his head, deciding to deal with his feelings about this later. “You like him.”

Alana raised her eyebrows. “I do. He’s a very nice man. I think you’d like him as well.”

Will looked at his coffee. “Maybe.”

Alana changed the subject, and Will didn’t try and steer them back to the dinner. They chatted lightheartedly until it was time for them to go, and Will went home, happy to have rekindled his friendship with Alana and happy for reasons he wouldn’t quite name.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Will raised his knuckle to the door, hesitating. It wasn’t too late. He could still turn back. The wrapped bottle of wine was cold in his hands, and he regretted buying it, realising how unoriginal it was. He glanced to his car, parked a few feet away and beckoning him to safety. He shook his head. This was ridiculous. It was just a dinner.

He knocked on the door.

He waited a few moments, rocking back and forth on his heels. The door was opened and his gaze fell on Hannibal, who was regarding him with a broad smile.

“Will. Welcome.”

Will sheepishly held up the bottle of wine, not saying anything. Hannibal took it from him graciously.

“Thank you. Please, come in.”

Will followed Hannibal inside and Hannibal unwrapped the wine. He smiled at Will. “Excellent choice. Please.”

He gestured to Will’s coat, and the latter stood in a daze as Hannibal pulled it gently off his shoulders and hung it in the closet.

Will followed Hannibal into the dining room, trying hard not to gawk at the interior of the house. It had looked impressive from the outside; from the inside it was just breathtaking. Huge, filled with various artwork, dark and classy. Exactly what someone would expect someone like Hannibal’s house to look like. Will thought back to his own house, and felt embarrassment creep into him. Hannibal had seen how he lived. He must have worked very well to hide his disdain.

“Have a seat,” Hannibal said, gesturing to one of the two places at the table that were set. “I’ll only be a moment.”

Will nodded, still not having spoken a single word since he’d entered. He gazed around, feeling suddenly very overwhelmed, and decided to settle his stare to the empty wine glass instead.

Hannibal returned shortly, carrying two plates. He put one down in front of Will. The latter couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow – even the food and the way it had been presented screamed class and sophistication. Hannibal was obviously trained in the culinary arts. The more Will got to know about him, the more uncomfortable he became – and the more intriguing Hannibal became.

“Loin, served with a Cumberland sauce of red fruits,” Hannibal clarified as he set the plate in front of Will.

Will nodded, giving a slight smile of thanks. Hannibal poured him the wine he had brought before pouring himself some, and sat himself opposite from Will. He regarded him for a moment, neither of them eating yet.

“It looks delicious,” Will managed, his fingers drumming absent-mindedly on the table.

Hannibal glanced at his hand, at which point Will stopped. Hannibal leaned forward.

“I’m very happy you decided to come, Will. I was afraid you might change your mind again.”

At this point he picked up his cutlery and started cutting into the food, encouraging Will to do the same. He rolled his shoulders.

“I’ll admit the thought crossed my mind,” he said, before putting the meat into his mouth.

Hannibal gave a small smile. “That doesn’t surprise me. Nevertheless, you are here, and I am pleased.”

Will couldn’t imagine why, but he decided not to say as much.

“Tell me about yourself, Will,” Hannibal said, reaching for his wine glass. “Where did you grow up?”

Will cleared his throat. “We moved around a lot. I followed my father from the boatyards of Biloxi and Greenville to lake boats on Erie. He fixed boat motors,” he replied shortly.

“No mother to speak of?” Hannibal asked.

Will shook his head. “Never knew her. She left my father when I was very young. Don’t know why, and I never thought to wonder.”

“Did your mother leaving affect the relationships you formed with people?” Hannibal asked innocently.

Will froze, fork half-way to his mouth. “Lazy psychiatry, Dr. Lecter, don’t you think?” he then said coldly.

Hannibal cut into the meat, his face carefully blank. “It was not intentional. I’m sorry, Will. Old habits tend to die hard.”

Will played with his glass, feeling Hannibal’s gaze on him. Finally, he took a breath. “You’re probably right. Amongst other things. But moving around all the time didn’t help either. Never stayed in one place long enough to form a meaningful friendship.”

“Always the new boy at school. Always the stranger,” Hannibal said carefully.

“Always,” Will said, taking a bite of food to stop himself from talking.

“And now you live in your little house in Wolf Trap, Virginia, almost hidden from the rest of the world. Was that deliberate?”

Will snorted. “Yeah. I couldn’t stand to live in the city. Too much noise, too many people… no privacy. Everything is… impersonal. And the dogs would hate it,” he added as an afterthought.

One corner of Hannibal’s mouth twisted upwards, and Will worried for a moment if he was trying not to laugh at him.

“What about you?” he asked, quickly trying to steer away from himself.

Hannibal chewed thoughtfully. “My parents died when I was very young. I lived in an orphanage until my aunt took me in. She was very kind to me, and part of the reason I have managed to achieve what I have achieved.”

“Jack tells me you’re a psychiatrist,” Will said, as if he hadn’t spent hours googling the man.

“I am. Which is the reason he asks me for help sometimes. I help him profile the killers. Although no one does that better than you, isn’t that right Will? You do what no one else manages. You get into the minds of the killers.”

Will sighed quietly, already regretting that he came. He should have known the conversation would be steered to this. It always was.

Hannibal tilted his head. “You don’t like talking about it.”

Will snorted. “I don’t.”

“Why is that? Does it make you feel uncomfortable?” Hannibal asked innocently.

“Amongst other things,” Will replied shortly.

“Tell me Will,” Hannibal said, leaning forward, “how do you see the Chesapeake Ripper?”

Will blinked, not having expected this question.

“That’s the reason Jack asked you to come back, is it not? Because the Ripper has started ripping again?”

Will nodded and took a breath, pinching his nose. “I see the Ripper… as one of those pitiful things sometimes born in hospitals. They feed it, they keep it warm, but they don’t put it on the machines. They let it die. But he doesn’t die. He looks normal. Nobody can tell what he is.”

Hannibal tilted his head, eyebrows raised in interest. “That is an awfully detailed description of someone you have never laid eyes on. What makes you so sure?”

Will shrugged, having had enough of the conversation, and took a bite. “That’s what I do. I see killers for what they are. Like you said, I get into their minds.”

Hannibal was silent for a moment, staring at Will intently. “Fascinating,” he then said quietly.

Will shrugged again. They had both finished their dinner, and Hannibal wordlessly took their plates and came back some time later with dessert. He leaned over, putting Will’s plate in front of him, but didn’t walk away.

Will glanced up curiously.

“Tell me. Would it be so difficult for you to meet my eyes? Just once?” Hannibal then murmured.

Will flinched when he felt a hand under his chin, slowly raising his face up and finally looking right into Hannibal’s deep brown eyes. There was something hidden there – some deep emotion Will couldn’t name. It made him feel cold and warm at the same time, a shiver running down his back. He suddenly felt he was looking at something very powerful, something… omnipotent. Hannibal smiled. Will blinked, frozen, and they stayed like that for a few moments, Hannibal’s hand not leaving Will’s chin.

Finally, Will came out of the trance and looked away, his cheeks heating up. Hannibal let go, and sat down at his own seat.

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal then said, sounding pleased.

Will ran his hands through his hair, not exactly sure about what had happened.

“Do you feel uncomfortable around me?” Hannibal then asked pleasantly, digging into his dessert.

Will swallowed, still trying to shake off the haze that had just settled over him. “Um. Yes,” he said honestly. “But don’t take it personally, I feel uncomfortable around everyone.”

“Not Dr. Bloom,” Hannibal said before putting a bite of food into his mouth – gracefully, of course.

Will huffed a quiet laugh. “I think too much has happened between us for it to still be uncomfortable.” He paused. “What makes you say that, anyway?”

“Dr. Bloom speaks highly of you. She considers you her friend.”

Will didn’t immediately reply, not sure what he was getting at. “How was the dinner?” he deflected.

Hannibal smiled slightly. “Enjoyable. Although Dr. Chilton has a tendency to let his curiosity get the better of him.”

“You mean his nosiness,” Will muttered. “Alana told me how you stopped him from turning the conversation to me. Thank you for that,” he said sincerely, looking down at his plate.

“No thanks necessary. He was being rude,” Hannibal said.

“You don’t like the rude,” Will stated.

Hannibal smirked to himself. “I do not.”

They finished their dessert, and Hannibal led Will to his living room, hand lingering on his back, where they sat down on the couch with another glass of wine. Will wondered idly if he would still be able to drive home later. Part of him didn’t want to. He put his hand on his knee, fingers tapping. Hannibal gently took his hand, and Will thought it was because of the tapping, but was inclined to think otherwise when Hannibal examined the back of his hand thoughtfully.

“What happened?” he asked, looking at the scrapes and bruises on his knuckles.

Will shook his head with an embarrassed smile, pulling his hand back. “Nothing.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, and Will sighed.

“I punched a wall. It was stupid of me.”

Hannibal gave him an amused look. “Do you do that often?”

Will laughed sheepishly. “No.” His smile faded. “I was particularly unhappy the other day.”

“I read Freddie Lounds’ article,” Hannibal said after a pause. He had guessed correctly.

Will flinched. “Oh.”

“Did you imagine the wall was her face?” Hannibal asked, sounding interested.

Will snorted, hiding the fact that he had come awfully close to the truth. His thoughts about Freddie Lounds had been much darker. “No. I just needed an outlet.”

“She claims that in order to be able to empathise with serial killers, you must be one yourself,” Hannibal continued, amusement in his voice. “How terribly… tedious.”

Will looked up. “Tedious,” he repeated.

“Will, I have no doubt that you have been the victim of distrust, doubt and even hate because of your gift. It is tedious that people’s understanding and imagination can only reach so far as to believe that you are a killer yourself. What you can do is extraordinary, and you deserve to have it be treated as such.”

Will noticed how Hannibal referred to it as a gift, and not an empathy disorder. Somehow Hannibal’s hand found its way onto Will’s knee.

“I imagine it must be difficult for you, to climb into the minds of the people you despise so much and still having to relocate your own self afterwards. And I imagine that people around you distrusting you for what you can do, what you are doing to help, makes things all the more difficult.”

Will swallowed, nodding, his eyes on Hannibal’s hand. “You called it a gift.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, waiting for elaboration.

“You called it a gift. Not a disorder. Not a… not something to be ashamed of, disgusted at. Not something to be hidden away and ignored until someone needs use of it.” Will spoke mechanically, very careful not to let any emotion make its way into his words.

“It is a gift. A rare one. One to yield with pride.”

Will looked at him, a frown on his face. “You think I should be proud to be able to get into the minds of the most horrible people on earth?”

Hannibal’s hand tightened ever so slightly on his knee. “Ah, now you are repeating the words of the people around you. You can understand them. You know there’s more to those people than being horrible. You understand their motives, their thoughts. You know they can’t merely be labelled as evil.”

“Empathy isn’t the same as sympathy,” Will muttered.

He stood, walking over to the burning fireplace, focusing on the embers crackling and popping. He felt, more than heard, Hannibal follow him; felt how he was only a few inches away from his back.

“Do their thoughts ever slip into your head when you aren’t trying? When you are at home, does your mind sometimes turn dark without prompt?” Hannibal’s voice was quiet, right beside his ear. It made him shiver.

He wasn’t entirely sure he liked where the conversation was headed.

“What are you getting at?” he asked nervously.

“Nothing, dear Will. I am merely curious.”

Will startled at the term of endearment. He startled even more when he felt Hannibal’s hand on his shoulder. He downed his wine.

“I should go,” Will said, his voice a lot rougher than he had meant it to be.

“I think that would be wise,” Hannibal murmured into his ear.

Will turned, blanching at the lack of distance between him. Hannibal’s eyes roamed over him – hungrily? – and he stood frozen, his heart beating loudly and his shoulder tingling where Hannibal was still holding him.

“I should see you out. Before I decide not to let you go,” Hannibal said quietly, and Will felt heat rise to his cheeks and the inevitable waves of desire rushing over him. 

He nodded wordlessly, not trusting his voice. Hannibal led the way to the hall, helping Will into his coat – letting his hands linger for longer than necessary – and Will opened the door. He turned to Hannibal, feeling very unsure of himself.

“Thank you for dinner,” he said, his voice still slightly husky. “Everything was delicious.”

“My pleasure,” Hannibal replied, the hungry glint still in his eye. He leaned forward, and Will froze, feeling Hannibal’s lips brush his cheek.

“We will be seeing more of each other. Soon,” Hannibal said, and it sounded like a promise as much as it sounded like a threat. Will didn’t understand why that turned him on so much.

He nodded breathlessly, and stepped outside, a slight wobble in his step as he tried very hard not to look back. When he got to his car, he did, though, and saw Hannibal regarding him from the doorway, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth. Then he shut the door.

Will got into his car and managed to drive all the way home, proud of the fact that he hadn’t given in to the many urges of turning around and kicking Hannibal’s door open and letting himself be devoured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cannibal pun. ha


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year everyone!!! I hope you all had a good Christmas and New Year's Eve!   
> So here, in 2018, is chapter 4. Thank you to everyone who kudos/bookmarks/comments. Just want to let you know that i really appreciate the feedback, it really motivates me to keep writing (even during exam time. ahem). So please feel free to let me know what you think.  
> Enjoy!

Chapter 4

This was the first night in weeks that Will’s dreams hadn’t been filled with blood and death. Instead his dreams were hazy; bodies touching, hands clasping, lips parting. When he woke up, he was soaked in sweat and feeling hot – but it was different than usual. This was a different kind of sweating. And there was a rather urgent problem he had to take care of, which he gladly did, thinking of his dream.

Will hadn’t felt like this in weeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done that. He grabbed tissues, cleaning up the mess, and went straight into the shower. He used the time under the hot water to come slightly to his senses – he was still feeling a bit fuzzy. He squeezed his eyes shut.

He had had a sex dream. About Hannibal.

_Fuck._

He thought of the night before, with the physical contact and the strange atmosphere… he had the feeling that if he had stayed, the night would have ended very differently. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought that maybe he was wrong – maybe it had all been in his head and Hannibal hadn’t thought of him sexually even for a second.

He shook his head. _‘I should see you out. Before I decide not to let you go.’_ That was not something someone who is only interested in friendship says. Will’s heart fluttered when he thought of the hand on his knee, on his shoulder, the heat between them when they faced each other near the fireplace – Hannibal’s lingering hands and quiet words. The kiss on his cheek. He bit his lip. This could not possibly be his imagination.

When Will had dried himself off and got dressed, he went into the living room, still feeling slightly flushed and giddy.

The questions Hannibal had asked him… if it had been anyone else he would have stormed off. _‘Do their thoughts ever slip into your head when you aren’t trying? When you are at home, does your mind sometimes turn dark without prompt?’_ Will shuddered. He didn’t know how to feel about the fact that Hannibal had hit the nail right on the head. Those were things he hadn’t even fully admitted to himself, never mind anyone else. It was like Hannibal had looked right into his soul. It frightened him.

Another part of him thought it was the best feeling in the world. Anyone else with assumptions like that about Will would have been scared or worried – Hannibal had sounded nothing but intrigued. Maybe he knew what it was like to have your mind unwillingly flooded with horrible thoughts. Maybe he experienced the same.

The spell was broken by his phone ringing. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Yes?”

“Know anything about gardening, Will?” came Jack’s tired voice.

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Will was tired, and anxious, and wanted nothing more than to go home. He felt a small relief at being able to save the young woman, Gretchen Speck, from being transformed into a mushroom garden. Before he could escape to his car, Jack cornered him.

“Come back to my office. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Will grunted. “Who?”

Jack crossed his arms. “Dr. Lecter. I want him to start working with you on the cases. I know you don’t want a psychiatrist – and I’ve accepted that – but I think that having him help you will be good for you.”

Will swallowed. “Why?”

“Because I think it would be good for you to have someone to lean on. He might not act as your psychiatrist, but having him with you to ground you when necessary should provide some comfort. He had also offered brilliant insights on past cases, and two minds are better than one. You and Dr. Lecter have a better chance of catching the Chesapeake Ripper together.”

Will considered telling Jack that they had already had a very interesting dinner together, but decided against it. “What you’re basically saying is you want Dr. Lecter and I to become friends?”

Jack shrugged. “If you want. Call it colleagues, call it partners, call it whatever. I want you working with someone with a stable mind.”

Will flinched, noting the implication. “A stable mind to balance out an unstable one.”

Jack looked at him solemnly. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re not denying it, either. All right then, let’s go.”

A while later, they were sitting in Jack’s office, waiting for Hannibal to arrive. Will’s heart fluttered. He didn’t know if Hannibal would mention last night. He really didn’t want him to.

He took a sip of his coffee, listening half-heartedly to the conversation Jack was trying to make. There was a knock at the door, and he and Jack both stood.

“Dr. Lecter. Thank you for coming,” Jack said with a smile.

Hannibal gave him a smile in return, shutting the door behind him. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Meet Will Graham. As I told you over the phone, I’d like you to start helping him with the cases. The Ripper case, in particular.”

Hannibal walked over to Will, and their eyes met. There was a moment where Will was sure Hannibal was going to mention they’d already met, but then Hannibal offered him his hand and he shook it.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Graham,” Hannibal said politely.

“Likewise,” Will said, just as polite.

Will didn’t miss the light squeeze Hannibal gave his hand before letting go, a glint in his eye.

“Please, sit,” Jack said, looking pleased at how nice Will was being. Will supposed that said a lot about him.

They sat down, Hannibal and Will a few inches away from each other, and Jack opposite him at his desk. Will could feel Hannibal next to him like there was static between them, a raw energy that shimmered and crackled. He refused to look at him, anxious that Jack would pick up on anything. He didn’t seem to notice, though.

“Now, I need you to understand, Dr. Lecter, that you will not be acting as Will’s psychiatrist. He has made it very clear that he has no interest in that,” Jack said firmly. Will didn’t think he ever appreciated Jack as much as he did in this moment.

“That is ideal, since I have no interest in being Will’s psychiatrist,” Hannibal replied smoothly.

Will cleared his throat, a bit annoyed at the fact that they were talking about him as if he weren’t there.

“Thank you. Jack’s right, I don’t,” he said, just to be able to say something.

“I understand that I will be helping you with the psychological profiling of the killers?” Hannibal said, eyebrows raised.

Will still refused to look at him, and he adjusted his glasses. “I don’t need any help with the profiling. I need help with… staying grounded. The murders can sometimes carry me away.”

“Either way,” Jack interrupted, “It’s always good to have a helping hand.”

Hannibal blinked, and Will noticed how he looked slightly annoyed at being called ‘a helping hand.’ The expression only lasted a fleeting moment, and Hannibal looked as cool and polite as he always did.

“Then a helping hand I shall be,” Hannibal then said, a slight tone of mockery in his voice.

“But the staying grounded thing is right, as well. Dr. Lecter, I’d like for you to bring Will back to the present when he needs it. I need you to be his lifeline,” Jack said.

“What makes you think that I am the person to do that?” Hannibal asked, politely interested.

Jack gave a smile. “Dr. Lecter, you are one of the best psychiatrists in the country. You have successfully helped us profile more than one murderer, offering insights no one else had considered. Those two things combined make you the perfect candidate. I need Will to have someone safe, someone stable, someone who can bring him back to where he needs to be when he loses himself. I think you would be the perfect person for that. I trust you.”

“Is it maybe worth considering that if Will needs someone to do those things for him, it would be better to not have him do this work at all? You seem very worried that he will, as you said, lose himself. What better way to keep him stable than to stay away from what is obviously causing him this distress?”

If it was meant to provoke, it didn’t work. Jack sighed.

“Will has the bad luck that he is the best at what he does.”

“The suffering of one pales in comparison to the suffering of the many,” Hannibal mused. He looked at Will. “Unfortunate for the one.”

“I believe the two of you will have more chance of catching the Chesapeake Ripper together,” Jack said.

Will glanced at Hannibal, before looking down at his hands. “I appreciate the two of you talking about me as if I’m not in the room, but if I could have a say in this situation?”

Jack nodded, and Hannibal tilted his head. Will took a breath.

“I think it’s a good idea. It’s… difficult to go through this alone. It would be nice to have someone who… understands what I’m going through,” he said carefully. He looked at Hannibal briefly.

The latter was looking at him intently, a small smile on his face. As soon as the words had left Will’s mouth, there was a brief flash of something in his eyes – Will couldn’t rightly say what. But Hannibal’s eyes had a gleam that they hadn’t had before, and Will knew that what he had just said had pleased Hannibal. A lot. Although he had no idea why.

“My thoughts exactly,” Hannibal said quietly, still gazing at Will. He shuffled uncomfortably from the attention, and glanced at Jack.

“It’s settled then. Thank you for helping me get some sleep at night, Will,” Jack said with a small smile.

“Maybe Will can get some sleep at night as well, soon,” Hannibal said, his voice betraying nothing.

Will felt his cheeks burn nevertheless. Jack stood, and then so did Hannibal and Will.

“Maybe we can finally catch the Ripper, and have Will be completely fine while looking for him. I still have some things to sort out here,” Jack said then. “Will, you’re welcome to stay if you like.”

Will shook his head. “I’d rather go home. Bye, Jack.”

Hannibal and Jack exchanged polite goodbyes, and Hannibal followed Will out. They walked besides each other, both of them silent for a while.

“I enjoyed myself with you last night, Will,” Hannibal then said, as if he was discussing the weather.

Will cleared his throat. “Me too. Thanks for not, uh… mentioning it to Jack.”

Hannibal looked at him then, his mouth hinting at a smirk. “I had a feeling it would have made you uncomfortable. I assume I was right, then?”

Will nodded wordlessly.

“Why is that, Will? It was only dinner, after all.”  There was a mischievous tone in his voice.

Will grit his teeth. “I wouldn’t have wanted to acknowledge the… implications.”

“Implications? Would they have been wrong?”

“No,” Will snapped. Then he faltered, his step slowing slightly. “I mean, unless they… of course, unless you don’t…”

Hannibal put his hand on his arm, stopping him. He looked around coolly, determining that they were alone, before reaching his hand out to Will’s face. Will’s breath hitched in his throat as Hannibal ran his thumb gently along his bottom lip, leaning in.

“The implications would not have been wrong,” Hannibal said softly, his eyes staring hungrily at Will’s mouth.

Will swallowed, and Hannibal let go, continuing his pace as if nothing had happened. He looked back at Will – who was still standing where he had left him – with a smile, and Will quickly caught up.

“It seems we will be seeing a lot of each other,” Hannibal said with raised eyebrows.

“It would seem so,” Will agreed, hating how his voice trembled.

“I would like to cook for you again,” Hannibal then stated, holding the door open for him.

Will nodded, still breathless. “I would like that.”

“How does Friday at eight sound?”

Will nodded again.

Hannibal flashed him a brilliant smile. “Excellent. I look forward to it.”

His hand shot out, stroking slowly along Will’s cheek. Then he turned and walked to his car, leaving Will standing there with his heart in his throat.

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Beverly approached him in his classroom the next day, her face grim. “Incoming,” she said quietly as he was gathering his papers. He gave her a confused look, which changed to realisation and then disgust when he saw who entered the room.

“Mr. Graham. I hope this is a good time,” Dr. Chiton’s loud voice sounded.

The handsome man approached him with a grin, looking as if he owned the place.

Will grit his teeth. “Actually, it’s not. I was going to get a coffee with –” Chilton interrupted him before he could say Beverly’s name.

“I’m sure that can wait,” Chilton said, waving his hand dismissively. “I missed you at Dr. Lecter’s dinner the other day. Shame, I would have liked to discuss some things with you. Please, walk with me?”

Will didn’t move. “To what purpose?”

Beverly crossed her arms, and if looks could kill, Chilton would be lying in his coffin.

“Just a friendly conversation, Will. May I call you Will?”

“No,” Will snapped.

Beverly laughed into her hand.

Chilton’s nostrils flared, his pride obviously dented. “I can’t think of any other reason why you would be so hostile except for the fact that you’re still upset because of Freddie Lounds’ article.”

Beverly’s smile faded, and she clenched her hands into fists. Will froze.

“I can’t help but wonder how close to the truth she is. Anyway. I’ll approach you again when you’re less distraught. Have a good day, Mr. Graham,” Chilton said with a smug smile, and sauntered off.

“That pig-headed, egotistical, smug piece of utter shit,” Beverly hissed.

Will put a hand on her arm, although he was trembling himself.

“It’s okay,” he muttered.

“No, it’s not! Why can’t people leave you the hell alone?” Beverly exclaimed.

Will gave her a sad smile. “I’m just too interesting.”

Beverly crossed her arms. “What did he want, anyway?”

Will shrugged. “Probably to ask about my feelings regarding the article. I don’t know. He’s always seemed weirdly obsessed with my psyche.”

Beverly sighed, and they were quiet for a few moments. “Let’s go get that coffee,” she said eventually, and Will followed her out.

Once they were seated at their designated random bench outside with two steaming cups of coffee, Beverly turned to him.

“I’m going out with Zeller tomorrow.”

Will blinked, and smiled. “That’s nice.”

“Well, I don’t know about that yet. Guess we’ll just have to see.”

Will nodded, taking a sip of his coffee.

“What about you and Dr. Lecter?” she then asked with a faint grin.

Will swallowed. “The dinner was… nice.”

“Was it?” Beverly asked with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows. “Is there going to be a second date?”

Will was about to correct her, but decided against it. “I’m going over for dinner again on Friday.”

Beverly grinned properly now. “I’ll take it dinner number one was a success, then.”

“Well, it was a bit –” Will stopped, his phone ringing. He frowned. “It’s Jack.”

Beverly rolled her eyes. “You just can’t catch a break, huh.”

Will picked up the phone. “Yeah?”

“Will. Where are you?”

“Quantico. Why?”

“Good. I need you in my office. Now.”

Will frowned. “Katz is with me, should I –”

“Yes. Hurry up.”

“Jack?” Will paused. “Is it –”

“Yes.” With that, he hung up.

Beverly looked at him, concerned. “That didn’t sound good.”

Will sighed, standing up and running his hands through his hair. “It’s the Ripper.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, sorry this one is a bit late. i've been very very very busy with exams and other stuff. i also have a general rule where i don't post a chapter before i've finished the next one, so that i don't get de-motivated and stop writing completely. it took me a while to complete the next chapter because of school shit. anyway, hope you enjoy and as always thank you for the feedback! it's much appreciated.

Chapter 5

Jack, Will, Katz, Price and Zeller – and a bunch of FBI officers swarming the place Will didn’t know – all stared grimly at the scene before them. They were standing in a parking lot, looking at a man serving as the trunk of a tree with branches and vines intertwined throughout his corpse. His chest was split open and filled with colourful flowers.

“His ribs are pulled forward to form a cradle for the flowers,” Zeller remarked, examining the body, Price and Katz doing the same.

“He’s literally been grafted in place. Those are living roots,” Price said, eyebrows raised.

“He’s got varicose vines,” Zeller said with a grin, which faltered when he saw that no one was amused. “Threaded through from his heels, under his legs, his back, through his torso and out his fingertips,” he then continued, sounded vaguely impressed. “Followed some pretty tricky endoscopic surgical paths.”

Beverly frowned. “The Chesapeake Ripper usually cherry-picks his organs. He took every last one. Except for the lungs.”

“Why leave the lungs?” Jack said, more to himself, rubbing his hand over his face. He turned to Will. “What do you see?”

Will took a breath, taking in the tableau.

_I take great pride in what I do. I sowed the seeds… and watched them grow. This man is… toxic. He deserves to be treated as such. I fill him with poison beauty – belladonna for the heart, a chain of white oleander for the intestines, ragwort for the liver._

_This is judgment._

“The Ripper believed this man was toxic. He filled him with poison flowers, punishing him. Poison flowers for a poisonous man,” Will muttered. “This is him… giving judgment.”

Jack shook his head. “Who is he to moralise?”

“Will’s right. The flowers are all poisonous. Belladonna, ragwort, white oleander,” Zeller said.

“Poetic,” Price mused.

Will closed his eyes, and saw a black, feathered stag walking slowly towards him, the antlers decorated with the toxic flowers.

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“The victim is Sheldon Isley. Baltimore city councilman,” Price said, raising his voice over Zeller sawing through the branches rising out of the man’s head.

He stopped chainsawing. “The Ripper’s a politician now,” Zeller added.

“At least a conservationist,” Price said. “Five, six years ago, Isley brokered a woodlands development deal despite the disapproval of the EPA. He ruined an important nesting habitat for endangered songbirds.” He shook his head. “The son of a bitch.”

Zeller reached into the branches and pulled out a nest, laying it on the table.

“Was there anything in the lungs?” Will asked, frowning.

“Water. The councilman drowned,” Beverly said.

Will rubbed his eyes, feeling extremely tired. Jack pulled him aside.

“I’m going to call Dr. Lecter to come down here,” he said, looking Will up and down.

Will crossed his arms. “Dr. Lecter shouldn’t have to look at corpses. I’m fine.”

“I’ll call him anyway. He doesn’t have to come down to the morgue,” Jack said before Will could protest, “but you can pore over the file together. Don’t forget, you’re both working on this now.”

Will glanced over at Beverly to see her raise her eyebrows.

“Who’s Dr. Lecter?” Zeller piped up, noting Beverly’s interest.

“He’s a psychiatrist. He’s going to be working with Will to catch the Chesapeake Ripper,” Jack said.

“Is he the fancy one who’s always wearing the suits that look more expensive than my salary in a year?” Price asked.

“That’s the one,” Beverly grinned.

Will’s cheeks were turning red, and he wished with all his heart that they would stop talking before his face betrayed him. Jack walked away, phone to his ear.

“Wait, the European one?” Zeller asked, frowning.

Price nodded. “Although you know Europe isn’t just one country, right?”

Zeller grimaced. “Very funny. Where is he from then, Jim?”

Price raised his hands defensively. “I didn’t say I know exactly where he’s from, _Brian_. I was just making sure you knew Europe consisted of multiple countries.”

Beverly rolled her eyes. “Can you two knock it off? He’s Scandinavian or something.”

“He’s Lithuanian,” Jack said loudly, coming back into the room. “And I’m sure he would have told you himself if you had asked him.”

Zeller and Price both gave an apologetic shrug. Will, who had done his best to make himself invisible during the conversation, looked at Jack with raised eyebrows.

Jack ignored this. “He’ll be here soon. Will, you want to meet him in your classroom?”

He nodded, pointedly ignoring Beverly’s grin.

“It’ll be private enough,” she then said solemnly. “No one would come in, right?”

“Jack would, and often does,” Will snapped, adjusting his glasses and avoiding everyone’s eyes.

“Sorry about that,” Jack said, not sounding sorry in the least. He was completely oblivious to what was not being said between Will and Beverly, luckily.

“Let’s not forget Chilton,” Beverly then muttered, no longer amused.

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Chilton? Frederick Chilton?”

“No, Bob Chilton. Yes, Frederick Chilton,” Beverly replied, her tone sour.

Zeller snickered quietly, turning away.

Jack ignored the sass in favour of turning to Will, frowning. “What did he want?”

Will shrugged. “To talk.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

There was a silence, Price and Zeller giving each other awkward glances while Beverly silently fumed and Will and Jack looked at each other, frowning.

“Coffee, anyone?” Price piped up.

“I’ll help,” Zeller said quickly, and they both left before anyone could answer.

“Chilton is not a bad man,” Jack said when they had left the room, “but he’s sometimes… inconsiderate of others. It’s a good thing you didn’t engage in a conversation.”

“He was a total dick,” Beverly snapped. She swallowed. “Sorry.”

Jack nodded. His phone rang before anyone could say anything else. “That’ll be Dr. Lecter.”

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Will stood, his arms crossed and brow furrowed, looking at pictures of the body spread out over his desk. It wasn’t the same as actually seeing the body, but given the fact that he had just seen it and didn’t want Hannibal to, this would have to do.

 Hannibal stood beside him, his hands clasped behind his back.

“What do you see, Will?” he asked, hand reaching out to lightly brush one of the pictures.

“Judgment,” Will replied quietly.

“How so?”

“The Ripper believed this man was toxic, somehow. It most likely has something to do with the fact that he ruined an important nesting habitat for birds.”

“Endangered birds,” Hannibal corrected him.

Will glanced at him, startled.

“It was in the news when it happened,” Hannibal said with a shrug.

“Okay,” Will said. “Anyway, this is the Ripper punishing him. See the flowers?”

“They’re all poisonous,” Hannibal nodded.

Will touched the photographs, pointing out the different types of flowers, naming them. “And belladonna for the heart,” he finished.

“He believed this man was toxic, so he filled him with toxic flowers?” Hannibal asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes. So he took every organ and replaced them with the flowers. But he left the lungs. Why did he leave the lungs?” Will finished, muttering, more to himself.

Hannibal bent over the photographs, hands clasped behind his back once more. “That depends. Maybe he felt his message was clear enough without removing the lungs as well. Maybe he thought the lungs completed the tableau. Maybe it has something to do with the way the victim died.”

“He drowned,” Will said, frowning. “They’ll be able to find out where. If they do that, they might catch him. Why leave a clue?”

“Maybe he wants to be found?” Hannibal suggested.

Will shook his head. “No. He’s been doing this for years, why would he want to be found now? No, this is… this is some kind of game. Whatever we find is going to lead us away from the Ripper. He’s toying with us.”

Hannibal looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Why?”

Will shrugged, running a hand over his face. “Because he likes to. Because he’s bored. Because he wants us all to know he’s cleverer than us. Naming a few.”

“Hmm,” Hannibal said, turning back to the pictures. “What is he doing with the organs?”

Will shrugged again. “Taking them as trophies,” he replied bitterly. “Not the first serial killer to do that. It’s a bit bland, for the Ripper’s standards.”

Hannibal gave him a smile. “You sound disappointed that he doesn’t do anything else with them.”

Will shook his head. “Not disappointed. Just… not surprised. It’s what serial killers do. Also, considering the manner in which the Ripper kills, it just seems strange. The Ripper appreciates beauty, art, and he appreciates being the only one like himself. There’s no one else like him, and he knows it, and he wants everyone to know it. So taking surgical trophies, like so many before him, just seems a bit out of character, I guess.”

“Have you discussed any of this with Jack?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. I told him what I thought, but since Jack is convinced that it’s obvious that a serial killer takes trophies, he quickly dismissed it. I won’t go back to him about that unless I find something absolutely solid. I don’t even know what I’d be looking for.”

“Hmm,” Hannibal said again.

They were both silent for a while. Will closed his eyes, images of the body floating around in his mind. They kept floating, just out of reach, until they were suddenly within reach, and getting way too close. He found himself suddenly absorbed into the photographs, standing right in front of the body in the parking lot. He heard a faint clicking sound, which grew louder and louder by the second. The stag appeared from behind the body, standing in front of it and staring at him with its ink-black eyes. Will felt himself shake, and his mind was itching, itching with something hidden somewhere deep, itching desperately, making him want to claw open his mind and find out what he was missing, find out what was so blatantly obvious yet so meticulously hidden… The stag reared its head, shaking its antlers, and Will was covered with a spray of blood, and he felt himself drowning, felt his lungs fill up with water. The flowers in the body bloomed and grew until they were surrounding the stag, growing further still until they were surrounding him, the vines wrapping around his limbs and his neck, the petals softly brushing his cheeks and eyelids as he felt himself suffocate. The stag neared him slowly, its hooves clicking on the concrete, and kept nearing him until they were face to face, and the stag lowered its head, lowered its antlers until they were piercing his body, and Will opened his mouth to scream but he couldn’t –

“ _Will_.”

Will opened his eyes, found himself leaning heavily on his desk, sweat dripping from his forehead, arms trembling and breath coming in heavy pants. He jerked up, looking at Hannibal who was staring at him, concerned. He noticed Hannibal’s hand was on his arm. He swallowed, shaking his head roughly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you all right?” Hannibal asked, frowning.

Will nodded, pushing his glasses off his face so he could wipe his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m fine.”

“I’d been saying your name for a while,” Hannibal said quietly. “Where did you go?”

“I… got lost for a moment. It’s fine.”

“Please don’t lie to me, Will. I’m here with you for a reason. Where did you go?”

Will took a breath. “I was at the crime scene. I felt like I was drowning, like the flowers were trapping me. I got lost.” He decided not to mention the stag.

“Does this happen often?” Hannibal asked. His hand was still on Will’s arm.

“Obviously it happens often, or you wouldn’t be here,” Will snapped. He paused, and they were both quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“Fear makes you rude, Will,” Hannibal said, a hint of dry amusement in his voice.

“You’re right. That was rude. I’m sorry.” Will had lost count of how many times he’d apologised in the last five minutes.

Hannibal let go of his arm, and Will turned, rubbing his eyes. He was tired, and unhappy, and he felt sick. He missed his dogs.

Hannibal left the room wordlessly, and Will gave a muffled groan, his face in his hands. It was no wonder there were so little people left who genuinely cared about him, since all he seemed to do was push them away. He sat down heavily on his chair, staring dejectedly at the photographs. In a burst of anger, he swept them off the table. They lay there on the floor, doing nothing but make him feel ashamed. The door opened, and he looked up in mild surprise to see Hannibal entering the room with a glass of water.

He glanced at the pictures on the floor, but made no comment as he handed Will the water. The latter took it gratefully, draining it in one go.

“Thank you. I needed that.”

Hannibal nodded. They were silent for a moment.

“I thought you’d left,” Will admitted.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It wouldn’t have been unusual. I wouldn’t have blamed you,” Will said. “Sometimes my… hostility can be too much for people.”

“It will take a lot more than your hostility to offend me,” Hannibal replied with a smile.

Will shakily returned it.

“I suggest that we call it a night. I’d prefer not to continue working on the case with how you’re currently feeling,” Hannibal then stated.

Will was about to protest, but felt the fight drain out of him. “You’re probably right. I won’t be much use right now, anyway.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Wait, what? That won’t be necessary,” Will said hastily.

“I insist,” Hannibal said simply, then bent down to pick up the photographs.

Will looked at him blankly for a few moments. “I’m perfectly fine to drive. I don’t need to be taken care of,” he then said, annoyed.

“I completely agree. You are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. Let me put it this way, I would like your company while driving home.”

Will blinked. “But… it’s a huge detour, and you’ll spend the majority of the time driving home alone.”

Hannibal gave a small shrug. “Irrelevant. I would like to drive you home, Will. Would you let me?”

Will blinked again. “My car,” he said weakly. “How will I get to work tomorrow?”

Hannibal flashed him a grin. “I’ll drive you.”

“No, Hannibal, that’s –”

“Will, I rarely do anything I don’t want to do. Do you understand?”

Will nodded.

“So. Will you let me drive you home?”

Will swallowed, then nodded again.

Hannibal smiled. “Thank you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo everyone, my life has finally temporarily calmed down again, thankfully. i'd like to thank everyone again for the feedback, and i hope you all enjoy this one! just a friendly reminder that i live and thrive off comments <3

Chapter 6

Will opened his eyes, and realised to his dismay that he had dozed off for the majority of the drive. He rubbed his face and looked at Hannibal. The latter glanced at him, corner of his mouth upturned in a lop-sided smile.

“Hello again,” he said.

Will managed a sheepish chuckle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Sorry about that.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m happy you managed to fit in some rest, even if it was brief.”

Will glanced around, looking at the road beyond them. “We’re almost there.”

“Yes.” Hannibal kept his eyes on the road, fingers drumming ever so slightly on the steering wheel. Will wanted to reach out and touch them.

Instead, he took a breath. “Thank you for… being there, earlier. I can’t imagine it to have been pleasant.”

Hannibal shot him a glance. “I can’t imagine it to have been pleasant for you. Jack asked me to help, Will, and that is what I intend to do.”

Will paused, mulling this over. “Doesn’t that make it… weird, though?”

“In what way?”

“Doesn’t it sort of… ruin what… doesn’t it change how…” Will faltered, unable to find the proper words.

Hannibal was quiet for a while, staring at the road ahead of them. Then he carefully put a hand on Will’s knee.

“No, it doesn’t.”

Will blinked, Hannibal’s hand burning into his knee, but he wasn’t convinced.

“I’m afraid your… personal curiosity will be clouded by your professional curiosity. Once you learn how… how I can get,” he admitted, looking out of the window and deliberately avoiding any chance of eye-contact.

“I understand your concern, Will. But you have nothing to be concerned about. My curiosity about you is exclusively personal.”

With that, Hannibal parked in Will’s driveway, looking at him with raised eyebrows. Will swallowed. The sound of Will’s dogs barking could be heard from the car, eager to see him.

“Would you like to come in and have a drink?” he then blurted out.

Hannibal blinked, smiling faintly. “I would.”

Will returned the smile, and they got out of the car, Will leading the way to the front door. He opened it, and was immediately jumped on by his dogs. He laughed quietly and bent down to greet them, before remembering Hannibal in the doorway. He glanced up at him apologetically. Hannibal smiled, gently closing the door behind him.

“Sorry. They’ll calm down in a second.”

“They’re just pleased to see you. Can’t say I blame them,” Hannibal replied, and Will turned away, his ears flushing.

He cleared his throat and made his way to the kitchen, Hannibal following. He poured them both a glass of whiskey and leaned against the counter. Hannibal had removed his jacket and was eyeing Will wordlessly.

“Thank you for driving me,” Will said, looking at his glass.

“It was my pleasure.”

Will snorted. “Can’t imagine I was very good company, seeing as how I was asleep most of the time.”

Hannibal gave a half smile. “Sleep is the most vulnerable state a human being can be in. Sleeping in the presence of someone else requires a certain level of trust.”

“Or a certain level of exhaustion,” Will said, snorting again.

“Or exhaustion,” Hannibal agreed. “Tell me, Will. Why do you sleep so little?”

Will blinked. “You know why.”

“Because of the cases,” Hannibal said.

Will nodded.

“Does that mean you have nightmares? Or do you lie awake at night, remembering and replaying what happened in your head?”

“Both,” Will said shortly, taking a sip.

“What haunts your subconscious, Will? What are your nightmares like?” Hannibal then asked quietly.

Will swallowed. “All-consuming,” he said slowly. “Inky black, splattered with red. It feels like I’m choking in black smoke, and that it… consumes me.”

“To consume can mean to devour, or to take in. Do you feel like you are being devoured by the smoke, or do you feel like you are taking the smoke in?”

“Both,” Will replied, finishing his drink.

Hannibal nodded, as if this confirmed his thoughts. “What do you think the smoke represents, Will?”

Will shrugged, giving a wry laugh. “I don’t know. If I knew, maybe it would get rid of the nightmares.”

“Talking about the nightmares will help. Creating an awareness of the messages your subconscious is trying to convey will clear the path to improvement,” Hannibal then said.

Will gave a bitter smile, eyes downcast. “I’m not entirely sure I want to know what messages my subconscious is trying to convey.”

“I assume they have to do with our previous conversation. I’m sure you remember.”

Will nodded slowly. Then he ran a hand through his hair and laughed, a desperate edge to it. “I just want to get a full night’s sleep for once.”

“I can help you with that if you like, Will. How would you feel if I gave you… an assignment?”

Will frowned. “Not my therapist,” he said tonelessly.

Hannibal chuckled. “I know, dear Will. And I intend to keep it that way. But, if I may, I have started to see us as… more than merely acquaintances. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Will gave a slow nod.

“So, as… more than an acquaintance, I would like to help you with your nightmares, and in order to do that, I would like you to do something for me. Is that acceptable?” There was a teasing edge to his voice.

Will nodded again, this time begrudgingly. “What kind of assignment, exactly?”

“I’d like you to write down your nightmares. In as much detail as you can remember. Then we’ll discuss the possibilities of the meaning together. How does that sound?”

Will thought it over for a moment. “Yeah, all right. I can do that.”

Hannibal flashed him a smile. Will realised that his entire face changed when he smiled genuinely – it took years off him. His heart fluttered slightly at the sight.

“Thank you, Will. In the meantime, I recommend spraying essence of lavender and chamomile on your pillow. And your wrists.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I’d also recommend changing that aftershave. I can’t imagine it helps.”

Will gave a surprised laugh. “You don’t like my aftershave?”

Hannibal smiled in return. “It smells like something with a ship on the bottle.”

Will ran his hand through his hair, glad for the lighter turn of conversation. “I keep getting it for Christmas. I’m sorry it offends you,” he said with a grin.

“I have a very keen sense of smell, Will, and I’m afraid your aftershave isn’t exactly pleasing,” Hannibal replied, his eyes amused.

Will gave another laugh. “I’ll get right on that, then.”

“Good,” Hannibal said with a smirk. “I should be going. Thank you for the drink, Will.”

Will tapped his fingers on the counter. “You don’t have to go,” he said slowly.

Hannibal looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“I mean, if you’re picking me up tomorrow morning… wouldn’t it make sense for you to stay here instead of driving back and then having to make the same trip tomorrow?”

Hannibal opened his mouth to reply, but Will interrupted him. “I have a guest bedroom,” he said quickly.

Hannibal smiled. “I was not concerned about that. Thank you for the offer, Will, but I’m afraid I have some things to take care of at home.”

Will tried hard to hide his disappointment, his fingers still tapping. “I’ll call a cab or something then, tomorrow morning. You shouldn’t have to make that trip.”

Hannibal neared him and put a hand on his, stilling the tapping. “Like I said before, Will, I rarely do things I don’t want to do. Please stop trying to convince me otherwise,” he said kindly.

Will nodded, looking down at their hands. “All right.”

Hannibal put his jacket back on, giving the dogs a fond look as they walked to the door. They sniffed at him, curious, tails wagging. Hannibal bent down slightly to pet Winston, and Will smiled.

“They like you.”

Hannibal looked up, smiling back. “And I them.”

Hannibal opened the door, pausing. “Sleep well tonight, Will. As well as you can manage.”

Will nodded, shifting uncomfortably. “As well as I can manage.”

Hannibal leaned forward and brushed his lips against Will’s cheek, reminiscent of how they parted on Tuesday. Will thought of how easy it would be to turn his face slightly, so that their lips met. He resisted the thought though, deciding that this would have to be enough – for now. He did take Hannibal’s hand, though, giving it a shy, light squeeze. Hannibal smiled, his thumb stroking over the back of his hand gently, before letting go.

“Drive safe,” Will murmured, and Hannibal nodded, before walking to his car and driving away. Will stood by the doorway for a long time, watching the car until it disappeared over the horizon.

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Will woke the next morning with an unsettling feeling his stomach. His dreams had been weird – and, quite frankly, disturbing. It had been the usual blood, darkness and the appearance of the stag – which had been a recent development, admittedly, but a recurring one since then. But halfway through the stag had turned into… he didn’t know; an ink-black, horrifying looking figure with dead eyes and antlers rising through its head. The figure had slowly transitioned into Hannibal, and it ended much like the way his last dream about Hannibal had ended. It left him feeling frightened and aroused at the same time, which was a weirder sensation than he could describe. He rubbed his eyes, deciding to put that away to deal with later. He couldn’t handle it right now. He certainly wasn’t going to write _this_ one down for Hannibal to read and analyse. He wondered how he would be able to look Hannibal in the eye in an hour. If he knew… Will shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

He got out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen, setting his mind solely on coffee. As he waited, he wandered into the living room and gave his dogs their breakfast. A small package sitting in front of his door made him pause. He blinked, and walked towards it. Somewhere in his mind, it registered that there was no way this package could have made its way inside his house unless someone had physically opened the front door and put it there. This realisation made him go cold, and he turned it over, searching for a name. The only thing written on it was his own name.

He took the package with him to the kitchen, shaking it slightly to try and hear what was inside. He sat down at the table, and slowly opened the package. Out fell a little box with a small, folded up note. His hands quivered as he slowly opened the note. On it, two words were written in a hasty, unnatural scribble.

S _ee me._

He swallowed, and slowly lifted the lid off the box. Only later did it register that there were little, dark red specks on the box. What was staring up at him, however, made him stumble up from his chair, taking several steps backwards.

Staring in the literal sense. Two human eyes were sitting in the box, the irises a bright blue. The optic nerves were still attached, leaving bloody stains.

Will stared at the box, barely believing what he saw. A thought entered his mind that he should probably call Jack. He stood frozen, though, not being able to move, the eyes on the table locking him into place.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but at one point, his ringing phone shocked him back into reality. He picked up, turning around so he wasn’t looking at the eyes anymore.

“Yes,” he croaked.

“Will, I need you here. Asap,” Jack said, his voice quiet.

“Ripper?” Will managed. His voice didn’t seem to be his own.

“…No, no, I don’t think it is. I’ll explain it later.”

Before Will could utter another word, Jack had hung up. He took a breath, running a hand through his hair. He glanced back, making sure he hadn’t imagined the eyes. He hadn’t. He quickly turned away again.

He stumbled back into his bedroom, haphazardly pulling on clothes, coffee forgotten.

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Hannibal was quick to notice something was wrong when Will opened the door. His smile quickly disappeared, worried confusion taking over.

“Will? What’s wrong?”

Will silently stepped inside to let him in. He walked to the kitchen, Hannibal following. “Will?” he called softly, but got no reply.

Will stopped before the table, the box still sitting there. Hannibal paused, a flicker of surprise on his face. He blinked and looked at Will.

“The package was in front of my door this morning,” Will said monotonously.

Hannibal gave him a look, before approaching the table and leaning down to get a closer look at the eyes. He put on his gloves before carefully lifting the box so he could see the bottom. He set it back down, picking up the package, turning it over. His eyes fell on the note.

“See me,” he read, and looked at Will. “Does this mean anything to you?”

Will shook his head. “But I have a feeling it might, soon.”

Hannibal looked at him questioningly.

“Jack called. I’m fairly certain there’s been a murder. And I’m fairly certain it has something to do with the eyes sitting on my table.”

“Is it the Ripper?” Hannibal asked, holding the note up to the light.

Will shook his head. “Jack didn’t seem to think so.”

Hannibal put the note back on the table after finding nothing. “So now there is another killer. And he has personally requested your attention.”

“It would seem so,” Will whispered, stuffing his shaking hands into his pockets.

Hannibal gave a quiet sigh, pursing his lips. He walked over to Will, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Did you tell Jack when he called?”

Will shook his head. “I… I couldn’t exactly bring myself to properly talk just yet at that point.”

Hannibal nodded in understanding. He gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “Let’s go.”

He went back to the table, carefully putting the lid back on the box, and putting it inside the package with the note. He carefully folded it closed, putting it under his arm. Will followed him out, and they drove in silence.

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“An entire family has been murdered. In their home,” Jack said darkly as the three of them approached the house. “This is going to cause an uproar.”

The package was in Will’s bag. Jack stepped inside first, and Will and Hannibal followed. Price, Zeller and Katz greeted them.

“All the action’s upstairs,” Beverly said, gesturing for them to follow her.

They did, carefully avoiding the other agents searching the house.

“The mirrors are all broken,” Will remarked quietly.

“Yeah. And look what he’s done with the shards,” Price said, leading them to the master bedroom.

A body – Mr. Leeds – was lying against the wall in the hallway, his throat slashed. Will swallowed, seeing himself in the reflection of the mirror shards that were over his eyes. He followed Beverly into the bedroom, where Mrs. Leeds was lying in bed, blood staining the sheets red. In fact, there was blood everywhere – on the floor, on the walls. He stopped, causing Hannibal to walk into him. It brought him slightly to his senses.

“Hannibal, you shouldn’t have to see this. For one, you were only supposed to help with the Ripper. Secondly, you shouldn’t have to see dead bodies,” he said, giving Jack a pointed glare.

Jack raised his eyebrows apologetically. He hasn’t exactly told Hannibal to come along, but he hadn’t stopped him, either.

“It’s quite all right, Will. I used to be a surgeon, I’ve seen my fair share of blood,” Hannibal said reassuringly.

To be fair, he didn’t really seem disturbed, so Will decided to let it slide.

“The kids are in their bedroom. They were shot, just like Mrs. Leeds,” Zeller said, gesturing towards the door.

“She’s the only one missing her eyes,” Beverly said. “We can’t find them anywhere. He took them with him.”

Will swallowed. “I have a feeling I’ve found them.”

When everyone looked at him questioningly, he opened his bag and pulled out the package. The room was dead silent when he showed its contents.

“Where did you get those from, Will?” Jack asked quietly.

“They had been… delivered to my house. With a note saying ‘see me,’” Will replied curtly.

“Take it,” Jack said sharply to Price.

“You might find prints on them,” Will said absent-mindedly, letting Price take the package from his hands carefully.

Jack pointed a finger in his face. “We’ll talk about this later. Will, do what you do best. Everyone, out. Clear the top floor.”

Will waited until the door was closed behind him, and shut his eyes. The pendulum swung.

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“Mr. Leeds had his throat slashed in bed. Mrs. Leeds was shot. The bullet ended in her lumbar spine. But she died of strangulation.”

Will paused, taking a breath. Jack looked at him attentively.

“Mr. Leeds got up to protect the children. The killer shoved him, making him fall down. The killer then went into the children’s bedroom, shot one of them in their sleep. The other he dragged out from under the bed and then shot him on the floor. Mr. Leeds tries to make his way to his children, but he collapses in the hallway.”

He closed his eyes, trying to make himself focus.

“All of them dead. Except possibly Mrs. Leeds. That’s when he began smashing the mirrors. He removed Mrs. Leeds’ eyes, replacing them with shards. He put a shard in her mouth as well. He moved Mr. Leeds and the children into the master bedroom, sitting them against the wall.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “He wanted them to watch, Jack.”

Jack’s lips tightened. Will cleared his throat, continuing. “There was talcum powder on her body, right?”

Beverly nodded.  “There’s none in the house.”

“He needed to touch her.”

They were all quiet for a moment, taking this in.

“Why take her eyes and not the others?” Jack then wondered.

“Why send them to me,” Will muttered. “He wanted her to see him how he sees himself. That’s why the shards were put there. He wanted them all to see him how he saw himself. She was just more important.”

“How does he see himself?” Jack asked.

Will shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He swallowed harshly, closing his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s take a walk,” Hannibal suggested quietly, opening his mouth for the first time in ages.

Will glanced at Jack, who nodded, and Hannibal led him out of the house.

“How are you feeling, Will?” he asked once they were far enough away.

Will took a breath. “I’m… handling it.”

They both blinked when a bright flash appeared in front of them. Freddie Lounds came closer to them, a grin on her face.

“Sorry, forgot to turn it off,” she said. She stuck her hand out to Hannibal. “I don’t believe we’ve met, Dr. Lecter. Freddie Lounds.”

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he took her hand. “That was rude, Miss Lounds.”

She gave him a cheerful shrug. “Did you really think I was beneath that?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Will snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “This is an active crime scene.”

“You still have a chance to redeem yourself, Graham. Just one conversation,” Freddie said, a glint in her eye as she glanced up at the house.

“Redeem myself? I haven’t done shit,” Will spat.

Freddie turned to Hannibal, ignoring Will. “So, if I might ask, what is your role in all of this? We know Will’s… imagination makes him useful to the FBI, but what is a psychiatrist doing here?” She paused, glancing between them, a smirk settling on her face. “You’re his therapist, aren’t you?”

“I am not,” Hannibal said coolly. “And quite frankly, Miss Lounds, Mr. Graham is right. You really should not be here.”

“I’m not in the house. I’m allowed to be here,” she replied with a raised eyebrow.

“I think Agent Crawford would disagree,” Hannibal said amiably.

She faltered at this, glancing towards the house.

“I can undo what I wrote about you…” she then said to Will, leaning in.

“Fuck off,” Will replied.

Freddie leaned back with a cold smile. “I can undo what I wrote about you. I can also make it a lot worse.”

Will laughed bitterly, leaning in himself. “Miss Lounds,” he then said quietly, “it’s not a good idea to piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living.”

Freddie’s eyes widened in surprise, before settling into something much more worrying – triumph.

“I think you should leave,” Hannibal then said pleasantly.

Freddie gave them a last, smug look, before snapping a picture of the house and walking away.

“What a terribly unpleasant woman,” Hannibal said calmly.

Will said nothing, still seething. The realisation had dawned on him that what he had said would definitely fuck him over soon.

Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder. “Jack’s leaving. I think we can go back to Quantico.”

Will nodded, numbly following Hannibal to Jack. He thankfully said nothing to Jack about what had just happened, but Will figured Jack would find out soon enough.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! as always, thank you for the kind feedback. the next few chapters will be a bit longer (which is why it took a little longer for me to update). hope you enjoy!   
> ALSO: trigger warning for past suicide attempt mention.

Chapter 7

“Would you care to tell me how the fuck Mrs. Leeds’ eyes turned up at your front door?”

Will sat in the chair opposite Jack’s desk, arms crossed defiantly. “I have no clue. I woke up this morning and the package was in front of the door.”

“Inside?” Jack asked darkly.

Will nodded once. “Inside.”

Jack looked at him for a few moments, thinking. He then turned to Hannibal, who was sitting next to Will, one leg crossed over the other. “You were there?”

“I was there a while later. The package was still sitting on the table where Will had opened it,” he replied firmly.

Jack ran a hand over his face, frowning. “Why is this guy reaching out to you, Will?”

Will shrugged. “I have no idea. Most likely he knows about me thanks to Freddie Lounds.”

“He wants your attention. He wants you to, as he put it, ‘see him.’”

“He thinks Will has the ability to see him how he sees himself,” Hannibal suggested.

Jack nodded, sitting down heavily. “Either way, you can’t go home for the time being. I need to have your house checked. Is there anywhere you can stay?”

“I’ll check into a hotel,” Will said, thinking about his dogs.

“Nonsense. I have a perfectly good guestroom,” Hannibal said.

Will and Jack both glanced at him in surprise. “No, Hannibal, that’s fine. I wouldn’t want to impose –”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. In fact, I’d feel better knowing that you are safe. This killer has found out where you live, I’m sure he’d be able to find you in a hotel, as well.”

Will ran a hand through his hair. “With that logic, he’d be able to find your house too. Then we’d both be in danger.”

“This guy hasn’t targeted Hannibal, he’s targeted you. He probably doesn’t even know Hannibal exists,” Jack said.

Hannibal nodded. “Exactly. It is perfectly safe.”

Will looked from Hannibal to Jack, realising that he didn’t really have a say in the matter anymore.

He looked at his hands, chewing his lip. Then he nodded. “All right. Thank you, Hannibal.”

Hannibal nodded at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. Will looked away before his expression could betray anything.

“Then that’s settled,” Jack said.

“What about my dogs?” Will said quickly.

“I’ll take care of them until you can go home,” Jack offered.

Will blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Jack nodded. “Sure. I like dogs. Bella does, too.”

Will smiled at him. “Thanks, Jack.”

Jack stood, sighing. “All right. Go home, Will. Or Hannibal’s home, whatever. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Will and Hannibal both got up and made to leave.

“Just one second, Hannibal,” Jack said.

Hannibal and Will glanced at each other; Will confused, Hannibal mildly surprised. The latter nodded wordlessly, and Will gave Jack a look.

“It won’t take long,” Jack assured him.

Will clenched his hands, then left, shutting the door behind him. He looked at the door and considered eavesdropping, but the embarrassment at possibly being caught was greater than his curiosity. Instead, he decided to head outside, letting the cold air clear his head. He was joined minutes later by Hannibal, who said nothing, just stood beside him.

“That was short,” Will said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Hannibal nodded, turning to look at him. “Would you like to know what we discussed?”

Will snorted. “I assume it was about me?”

Hannibal smiled. “Nothing escapes you,” he said, a teasing tone his voice.

Will chuckled despite himself. “I didn’t need my empathy to come to that conclusion.”

Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go home?”

Will suppressed a shudder, and nodded slowly. “I’ll follow you,” he said, gesturing to his car.

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Will awkwardly sat himself on a stool in the kitchen, waiting as Hannibal poured them wine. He took the offered glass with a half-smile. Hannibal raised the glass to his nose, appreciating the bouquet, and Will took a giant gulp, paying no heed to the bouquet whatsoever.

“It would seem like our dinner has been moved forward,” Hannibal then said.

Will nodded. “Thank you, again. If you’ve changed your mind… I can still book a hotel.”

Hannibal gave him a look. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Will shrugged sheepishly. “Okay.”

They were quiet for a while, and Will found himself frowning, his fingers tapping on his leg. He opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind, then changed his mind again, and again. Hannibal watched him with mild amusement, until he finally decided to put Will out of his misery.

“If you want to know what Jack and I talked about, you need only ask.”

Will cleared his throat. “What did you and Jack talk about?”

Hannibal considered him for a moment, face revealing nothing. “He wanted to know if there had been any progress. With you.”

Will frowned so hard it almost hurt his face. “Progress? With me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that he wants to know how your mental state has been. I told him what happened yesterday. I told him that you had described it to me in detail, and that that was progress in itself,” Hannibal replied calmly.

Will bit at his bottom lip, staring off into the distance. “He’s treating me like a child. It’s like he thinks I’m too sensitive to have conversations about this. Like I’m… going to break at the mere mention of my mental wellbeing.”

“No. Not like a child. He’s treating you like a fragile little teacup. The finest china, only used for special guests.”

Will laughed bitterly. “How do you see me?”

Hannibal took a sip of his wine before answering. “I see you as the mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by.”

Will blinked. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t this.

“Jack sees me as your mentor, of sorts,” Hannibal continued. “It seems like he doesn’t think you are capable of holding onto reality without my help.”

Will paused, slowly setting down his glass. “Are you… trying to alienate me from Jack Crawford?”

The faintest flicker of surprise appeared on Hannibal’s face, and was gone equally as fast. “Of course not, dear Will. I’m merely telling you how I see things.”

Will rubbed a hand over his face, and nodded. “Okay… okay.”

Hannibal seemed to consider something, then put his glass on the counter and approached Will. He slowly and deliberately took Will’s hand to stop the incessant tapping.

“Did you have any nightmares last night?” he asked.

Will swallowed before shaking his head. “No.” Images of the black… demon – for lack of better phrasing, he supposed – flashed in his mind, from the terrible fear he had felt to the terrible arousal that had taken over.

Hannibal squeezed his hand lightly. “If you’re going to lie to me, Will, you’re going to have to be more convincing.”

Will flushed. “No,” he said more firmly.

Hannibal tilted his head. “I can see you’re choosing to withhold. That’s fine. But I must remind you that we will get nowhere if you’re not completely honest with me.”

Will set his glass down – with more force than necessary – and pulled his hand from Hannibal’s. “I need you – you and Jack – to stop treating me like a project. I’m sick of constantly feeling like I’m being scrutinised, like everything I do and say is on the fucking record. I’m not delusional, I’m not constantly on the breaking point. I’m _not_ your patient, Hannibal.”

Hannibal paused. “I’ve told you several times, Will, I don’t see you as –”

“I _know_ what you told me. But you’re still acting like it. I am so fucking tired of being treated like – what was it you said? Fine china. You’re both making me feel like I’m going insane. Someone sent me fucking _eyeballs_ , for god’s sake. Can’t I catch a fucking break? I obviously have enough going on without constantly being analysed and… and ‘discussed.’ I just… I just want to be left alone. By everyone.”

They were both quiet for some time – Will’s anger slowly fading away until he felt numb, ashamed. Hannibal watched him wordlessly.

“Will you listen to me?” Hannibal finally said, gently.

Will ran a hand through his hair, nodding. Hannibal took his hand again.

“I don’t see you as my patient. The things I ask you, and ask of you, are because I care. I want to be the person to give you some stability and clarity when you can’t see through the fog. I understand why you feel like you’re being analysed and scrutinised. Like I said before, Jack sees you as fine china. I don’t. You know you’ve caught my interest, Will. You’ve known it from the beginning. Professional interest wouldn’t have been enough to convince me to help you with the case. I agreed because I see you for who you are – for who you think no one can see you as. If I ask you questions that seem like I’m treating you as my patient, it’s only because I want to help you see yourself. You can lose yourself, Will, and I’m trying to help you find yourself in those moments.”

Will didn’t respond for a long time. Then, “Okay.” And he leaned forward and kissed Hannibal.

If the latter was surprised, he didn’t show it. It was probably the most innocent kiss Will had ever shared – sweet and short, Hannibal pulling back first – but it made him feel like he had fire running through his veins.

They stared at each other for a few moments, Hannibal’s eyes running up and down his face, lingering at his lips. Will couldn’t tear his eyes away from Hannibal’s eyes, and his skin burned when Hannibal put a hand on his cheek. Will moved forward, leaning his forehead against Hannibal’s. He closed his eyes.

“If I had known that being completely honest about my feelings for you would result in that, I would have done it a lot sooner,” Hannibal then murmured.

Will smiled. “I would have probably panicked, punched you and then moved to the mountains to live life as a hermit.”

Hannibal chuckled, thumb running over Will’s cheek gently. He kissed the corner of Will’s mouth before pulling back. Will opened his eyes and they considered each other for a while. Will was about to say something, but was interrupted by his stomach rumbling loudly. Hannibal smirked.

“I’ll take it that means it’s dinner time.”

Will rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. As Hannibal started pulling out pots and pans and various ingredients, Will could do nothing but watch and sip his wine, not feeling like he had the right to mess about in Hannibal’s kitchen yet. He had only been here once before, after all. As Hannibal started chopping up vegetables, however, he felt too guilty to not say anything.

“Can I help with anything?” he asked, gesturing to the vegetables.

Hannibal shook his head. “Just sit back and enjoy your wine, Will. I wanted to cook for you, remember.”

Will nodded, biting his lip. There was a comfortable silence as Hannibal worked and Will watched him, fascinated.

“Why did you stop being a surgeon?” Will asked then.

Hannibal paused for a moment.

“You told me you were a surgeon before,” Will said, as explanation.

Hannibal nodded. “I killed someone.”

Will blinked, eyeing his wine.

“Or more accurately,” Hannibal continued, “I couldn’t save someone. But it felt like killing them.”

“What kind of surgeon were you?” Will wondered.

“Emergency room.”

“If you were an ER surgeon, it had to happen from time to time. You can’t save everyone.”

“It happened one time too many,” Hannibal replied simply. “I transferred my passion for anatomy into the culinary arts. I fix minds instead of bodies, and no one has died as a result of my therapy.” He looked up at Will with a small smile.

Will returned it hesitantly.

“And you, dear Will, are a teacher. And yet we have both been dragged into the world of murder and mutilation,” he said lightly.

“I dragged you in, is more accurate.”

“I’ve consulted with Jack Crawford before,” Hannibal reminded him.

Will nodded. “You did.”

“Yet you feel guilt. Why is that, Will?”

Will shrugged. “I feel like… even though you might have helped before, I’ve dragged you in deeper. There’s a difference between occasionally coming in and offering your insight and actively working on a case.”

“You have been dragged in as deep as I have, Will. One might even say you are in a lot deeper. If anyone should feel guilt, it’s Jack,” Hannibal said, giving a small smile. “And he does.”

Will nodded. “I know he does. And I understand him. We’re saving lives.”

“He’s never going to rest until the Chesapeake Ripper is caught.”

“That, and there’s another one now. Admittedly, it’s not as personal to him as the Ripper is – yet.”

“It’s personal to you, though.”

Will snorted. “He went into my house and left me a box of eyes. I’d say it’s personal for him, too.”

“You don’t sound very afraid,” Hannibal remarked lightly.

Will was quiet for a while. “If he wanted to kill me, he would have done it then,” he said thoughtfully. “He wants something else from me. He wants understanding. As long as he thinks I can give him that, he’ll keep me alive.”

“I’d prefer for you to stay alive a little longer than that.”

Will smiled. “Me too. But these things escalate. They always escalate.”

Hannibal considered him for a moment before carefully stirring the contents of a pan. “How do you think this will escalate?”

“Either the FBI gets him, or he kills me eventually.”

Hannibal tilted his head, an expression on his face Will couldn’t name.

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After dinner, Hannibal went to make coffee and Will wandered around his office, studying various books and artworks.

Hannibal came into the room with two steaming cups of coffee, and came to stand beside Will. The latter was looking at a sketch of a tall, wide building, drawn with immaculate detail.

“Did you draw these?” Will asked, gesturing at the drawings on the table.

Hannibal nodded and handed him his cup of coffee. “My boarding school in Paris when I was a boy.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, Will. Come, let’s sit.”

After a few moments of silence, the only sound the soft classical music Hannibal had put on in the background, he turned to Will.

“Would you like to talk about what happened with Freddie Lounds?” he asked carefully.

Will ran a hand through his hair, a pang of frustration going through his chest. “I have more important things on my plate than Lounds and her shitty articles.”

“You do,” Hannibal agreed, “but Miss Lounds has a habit of… exacerbating situations through her articles.”

“I have a feeling she’s typing one up right now, fucking me over with a direct quote,” Will said bitterly.

“It’s not a good idea to piss of a guy who thinks about killing people for a living,” Hannibal repeated thoughtfully.

“Jack is going to kill me,” Will said with a sigh.

“Miss Lounds is a terribly rude individual and she was baiting you for a reaction. You, understandably, lost your cool.”

“It was dumb and unprofessional. I should know better.”

“Why did you say what you said?” Hannibal asked curiously.

Will looked at him. There were no signs of judgment or disgust, just simple… intrigue.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Because it really isn’t a good idea to piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living,” he then said with a shrug.

Hannibal smiled, eyes glittering. “I’ll assume you’re not intending on killing her, though.”

Will chuckled. “No. But if she isn’t careful, someone will eventually. And I say that without any intention to sound threatening.”

“That doesn’t seem to concern you.”

Will chose not to reply.

“I agree with you, though,” Hannibal said once he’d understood Will wasn’t going to say anything. “I have a feeling someone, very soon is going to deal with Miss Lounds.”

“I can’t imagine she’s very popular with serial killers. Although, on the other hand, she does appeal to their narcissism.”

“Psychopaths love reading about themselves,” Hannibal quipped, sounding amused.

“Exactly. So who knows, maybe we’re wrong.”

“Only time will tell.”

“I don’t want to talk about Freddie Lounds anymore. I want to talk about something else,” Will said abruptly.

Hannibal looked at him questioningly.

“How… how did you find out about me? How did you know who I was?” Will asked carefully.

Hannibal tilted his head.

“When you sent me that letter, I had no idea who you were. I had heard of you, but I didn’t know you at all. How did you know me?” Will continued.

Hannibal carefully set down his coffee, seeming to think about his answer. “I know about you from the Minnesota Shrike case.”

Will froze. He had known this answer to be a possibility, but it hit hard all the same. “So you know about…”

“About your spending time in a mental hospital, yes.” Hannibal’s voice wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t particularly sympathetic, either. It was… calculated. Measured.

“Right,” Will said quietly.

“That’s when you caught my attention, Will. That’s when I became curious about you.”

“That was over a year ago. Why wait so long to contact me?” Will asked, nails digging into his palm.

“You had made the decision to stop consulting for the FBI. When Jack mentioned to me in passing that he had sought your insights again for the Chesapeake Ripper, I decided to send you the letter.”

Will leaned back. “It’s not very encouraging to know that your first impression of me was when I had a mental breakdown.”

“What happened, Will? Why did you break down?”

Will cleared his throat, opening his hand and studying the dents his nails had left in his palm. “I shot him… ten times. Right after he’d slit his wife’s and daughter’s throat before my eyes. I couldn’t save them… I walked in the kitchen right as he was slitting Abigail Hobbs’ throat.”

“He had shoved his wife outside to die on the porch,” Hannibal remembered thoughtfully.

Will swallowed, and nodded. “It… it was too much. I started hallucinating, losing time… turned out I had encephalitis.”

“You don’t get sent to a psychiatric hospital for encephalitis,” Hannibal said lightly.

Will shook his head slowly. “No, you don’t.”

“What did you do, Will?” Hannibal asked quietly.

Will kept his gaze on his hands, which were now trembling. “I… I tried to kill myself.”

“No, you didn’t,” Hannibal murmured. “It wasn’t you you thought you were killing, was it?”

Will gave a small shake of his head. “I thought… I thought I was him. I was looking in the mirror, and I… I saw him, grinning at me. So I… I tried to slit his throat. Like he had with Abigail. But, of course, it wasn’t his throat I was trying to slit. I realised this halfway through, and I called Alana, who called 911. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital, and after that, the mental hospital.”

Hannibal carefully, slowly, raised his hand to Will’s neck. Will flinched but allowed it. Hannibal’s fingers trailed gently down his neck, finally hooking his finger in Will’s collar and pulling it down to reveal a thick, short scar on the side of his throat. Will always supposed it was lucky he had decided to cut so low, or he would have had to wear turtleneck shirts for the rest of his life. Lucky. That was a word for it.

Hannibal lightly trailed his finger along the scar, making Will shiver. He then put his hand on the side of Will’s neck, and pulled him gently closer. Will leaned into him, and their lips met, careful, hesitant. Will’s hand shakily raised to the back of Hannibal’s head, pulling him closer. The kiss changed – from gentle, cautious – to something very different. Will’s fingers dug into Hannibal’s hair as the latter’s hand tightened around his neck, their breaths coming harsh and fast. Hannibal ran his tongue along Will’s bottom lip, and Will made a low noise from the back of his throat. The fire was in his veins again – burning him, consuming him with a hopeless _need_.

Hannibal’s hand lowered from his neck to his chest, running along Will’s body. Will broke away, panting. He stared at Hannibal, who’s eyes were dark and glittering with something… predatory. Something hungry. It made a shiver run down Will’s spine, and he licked his lips, watching Hannibal track the movement.

“Hannibal…” he whispered, hands still clutching him.

“Will,” Hannibal replied, his voice a low growl.

“I don’t know if I can… I don’t…” Will struggled to find the words.

“You are overwhelmed,” Hannibal murmured.

Will swallowed, then nodded carefully, apologetically.

“Of course you are, dear Will. It’s perfectly normal for you to be, with everything that’s happened.”

Will closed his eyes when Hannibal leaned forward again, kissing him on the nose. They were both quiet for a while.

“Let me set up the guestroom for you,” Hannibal then said gently.

Will opened his eyes and nodded again. Hannibal ran his fingers along Will’s cheek before finally pulling away and standing up. He offered Will his hand, who took it, and he led him upstairs. Will let himself be led, his hand burning in Hannibal’s.

Later that night, when he was alone in bed in Hannibal’s ridiculously fancy guestroom and the house was quiet and dark, he figured that with everything that was happening to him, he was happy to have Hannibal to take his hand and lead him to where he needed to be.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo everyone, thank you for the feedback!! it's very much appreciated <3 enjoy!

Chapter 8

Will woke to the smell of coffee. He was momentarily confused, not recognising the room, not knowing where he was, not understanding the lack of dogs. After a few seconds the events of last night dawned on him, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed his eyes. Slowly but surely he got up, glancing down at the satin pajama’s Hannibal had given him. He sleepily made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Hannibal was standing with his back to him, cracking eggs into a pan.

Will watched him for a while, enjoying the fact that Hannibal didn’t know he was there. He watched his broad shoulders work, admired the way every one of Hannibal’s movements looked elegant and effortless – almost like it was a dance. Hannibal started humming a soft tune to himself, and Will couldn’t help but smile. Finally, Hannibal turned and saw him – paused only for a second in his surprise – before making his way to the coffee machine.

“I didn’t hear you come down,” Hannibal said, pouring coffee into two cups.

“Walking around in socks helps,” Will replied.

Hannibal walked over to him, and handed him a cup of coffee. “Good morning, Will,” he then said with a smile, voice still rough from sleep.

He was also wearing satin pajama’s, with a dark blue bathrobe over them. Will was at a loss for how someone still managed to look refined in pajama’s.

“Good morning,” he replied, taking a sip of the coffee. “God, that’s good.”

“I’m sure we both have a long day ahead of us. You with Jack, and me with my patients. I find a good cup of coffee in the morning helps with even the toughest of days.”

He leaned forward and gave Will a kiss on the cheek. Will caught his shoulder before he could move away, and kissed him on the lips. They parted after a moment, and Hannibal smiled before returning to making breakfast.

“You’re starting to feel like the only normal thing in my life,” Will said quietly, running a hand through his hair.

“Considering the fact that you worked very hard to have nothing to do with me, I’ll consider that a personal win,” Hannibal replied with a raised eyebrow.

Will chuckled. “Well, you worked very hard to make me have something to do with you.”

“That is true,” Hannibal replied shamelessly.

Will sat down, slowly sipping his coffee.

“How did you sleep?” Hannibal then asked, his back still turned to him.

Will rubbed the back of his head. “Funnily enough, all right. I don’t know if that’s to do with the change of scenery or just the complete exhaustion of yesterday.”

“Most likely a bit of both. I’m glad to hear you had a good night, Will.”

Will nodded, staring into his cup. “No nightmares to report. Not that I remember, anyway.”

Hannibal flashed him a smile. “Good.”

“Don’t worry, though, I’m sure they’ll come back soon enough. And we can sit and analyse them together,” Will huffed a short laugh.

“Hmm,” Hannibal said. “I would be happy to hear that you never had nightmares again.”

Will gave a wry smile. “Me too, believe me. But it would be… wishful thinking.”

They were silent for a while.

“I got a call from Dr. Bloom earlier,” Hannibal then said conversationally.

Will looked up. “Alana?”

“Yes.”

“Why’d she call? I mean…” Will faltered, “not that it’s any of my business, of course.”

Hannibal gave him a smile. “If I didn’t consider it your business I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“Good point. Why’d she call?”

“Jack had informed her about what had happened. She’s decided to fly over here, to stay for a while.”

Will frowned. “What for?”

“She’s worried about you, Will. And Jack thinks her insights might be of value with this new killer.”

Will sighed. “I’ll be expecting a call from her soon, then.”

Hannibal set down a plate with eggs and sausages, reminiscent of the first meal they’d had together. Will gave him a smile, waiting for Hannibal to sit down as well before starting to eat.

“Staying here is good for my health, at least,” Will then said sheepishly.

Hannibal looked at him questioningly, and Will gestured to the food.

“What I eat here is a lot healthier than what I make for myself. Laziness outweighs the need for nutrition.”

Hannibal gave a small smile. “Then what do you usually have for breakfast?”

Will snorted. “Coffee. A lot shittier than the coffee you just made me. Sometimes with an aspirin, if I’m feeling adventurous.”

Hannibal tutted disapprovingly. “That’s not very encouraging to hear. I might have to insist on keeping you here a while longer, if only to make sure you eat properly.”

Will paused, his free hand tapping lightly on the table. “I would let you. Insist.”

Hannibal paused as well, looking up with raised eyebrows. “Just for the food, of course.”

Will grinned. “Just for the food.”

Hannibal smirked. Will blinked, amazed at how easy it was to forget about things that were going on – _a serial killer fucking sent him eyeballs, they were still no closer to finding the Chesapeake Ripper_ – when he was with Hannibal. It just melted away, forgotten, Hannibal’s presence like a light. _To guide him through the fog._

He didn’t rightly understand what this was, or where it was going, or what it even meant to Hannibal. But he was happy it existed. Or, more accurate, was starting to exist. Again, he didn’t rightly understand.

“Will?” Hannibal was looking at him with a tilted head.

Will blinked, glancing down at his fork which was halfway to his mouth.

“Where did you go?” Hannibal asked gently.

Will shook his head. “Nowhere. Sorry.”

Hannibal frowned slightly. “Will…”

“No, it’s okay. It really is.” Will smiled at him, meeting his eyes properly. “I’m just… happy to be sitting here right now.”

Hannibal held his gaze, looking surprised but pleased. “So am I.”

Will felt his cheeks redden, and he finally dropped his eyes again, shoveling the last piece of egg into his mouth.

“What does today hold in store for you, dear Will?” Hannibal then asked, standing up and picking up their plates.

Will followed, thinking of a way to quickly wash the dishes without Hannibal noticing and telling him off. “Teaching. Unless Jack comes barging in again, which he has had a knack for the past few weeks. And after that…”

“Poring over the murders,” Hannibal nodded. “At which point I’ll be joining you.”

“You don’t have to, you know. I can understand if spending the whole day working doesn’t really motivate you to spend the entire evening working, either.”

“It’s all right, Will. We can even do it here, now. With considerably better coffee than they have at the BAU.”

Will snorted, leaning over the kitchen island as Hannibal brought them both another cup of coffee.

“So what about you? Seeing patients all day?” Will asked, taking a tentative sip.

“Yes. Nothing particularly exciting, I’m afraid. In fact –“ he looked at his watch “— the first one will be here in little over an hour. I should go and get ready.”

Will imagined that took a long time, considering how impeccable Hannibal always looked. He hid his smirk behind his cup, nodding.

“Me, too. I’m just going to finish my coffee and then I’ll get dressed and leave.”

Hannibal nodded, having already finished his. “Then I will see you tonight,” he said, a teasing edge to his voice.

Will nodded too, focusing intently on his coffee. Hannibal neared him, gently prying the cup from his fingers and interlacing his own with them. His hand was cool, and Will grasped it tight. Hannibal gave him a soft kiss on the lips, which, despite the innocence of it, left Will feeling breathless.

“Tonight,” he muttered, and Hannibal gave his hand a last squeeze before leaving.

Will rubbed a hand over his face, embarrassed at his reactions. He swallowed, then quickly cleaned the dishes and went to the guest room. Hannibal had left him clothes, neatly folded on top of the bed. Will wouldn’t have particularly minded wearing yesterday’s clothes, but he guessed something like that wasn’t acceptable for Hannibal. He wasn’t complaining, though.

Luckily, Hannibal hadn’t tried to get him to wear one of his suits. Instead he had given him a light blue shirt – of far better quality than anything Will owned – and dark trousers, along with a pair of socks and underwear. Will frowned at the pile for a moment, wondering if Jack would let him go home just to pick up his own underwear, for god’s sake. He doubted it, though.

He had a quick shower in the adjacent bathroom, then hastily got dressed.

The shirt didn’t fit him quite right, since Hannibal’s shoulders were a bit broader and he was taller, but it didn’t look bad. Same went for the trousers. It would do fine.

Will made his way downstairs, wondering if Hannibal was already in his study, looking over notes for the next appointment. He couldn’t linger, though, he really had to leave. It wouldn’t do for him to be late. So he quietly left, secretly looking forward to returning as quickly as possible.

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“It’s not a good idea to piss of a guy who thinks about killing people for a living.”

Jack had, for a change, waited until Will had a couple of free hours between lectures before cornering him. Will liked to think it was because Jack was being considerate, but he knew that it was just so Jack had all the time in the world to tell him off.

He pushed his glasses up his nose, and glanced at Jack, unapologetic.

“You know what else isn’t smart?” Jack then said.

“Saying shit like this, I’m gonna guess,” Will muttered.

“Saying shit like this,” Jack agreed, his voice quivering with the effort to not yell. “I’m curious. Hannibal was there, and he let you say that?”

Will frowned. “I can speak for myself.”

“Obviously, you can’t,” Jack growled.

“Look, Jack, she cornered me. She was at the Leeds’ house, she started asking these questions… you know how she is. I just… lost my cool.”

Jack sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know what she’s like, Will. I know. But you can’t be saying shit like this. People are already talking, and everything you say to her just gives her more ammunition.”

“You said she wouldn’t be bothering me anymore. You said you’d dealt with it,” Will then snapped.

Jack looked at him, nodding slowly. “I did. I told her not to publish anything else about you, or I’d arrest her for obstruction of justice. Did she enter the house?”

Will rubbed his hand along his face. “No, not that I know of. She was standing outside the front yard.”

“Then, technically, she was allowed to be there. Not much I can do to her for that.”

Will crossed his arms, expecting as much.

“Look. If she shows up again, just don’t talk. Don’t say anything. That’s the only way to be sure she can’t write anything about you.”

“Really? What about that first fucking article? I hadn’t said a word to her and she still managed to write bullshit about me.”

Jack nodded again. “But she won’t, anymore. She wants you to react, Will, she wants you to talk. Just writing about you without having a conversation won’t be enough. So just humour me and ignore the fuck out of her, all right? Pretend she doesn’t exist. Even if she’s right up in your face. Can you do that?”

“I can do that,” Will muttered. “Can I leave?”

Jack rubbed a hand over his head and was quiet for a while. “I’m not trying to act like a dictator here. You’re working with me because I asked you to, not because it’s your job. I appreciate that. You’re helping me, and with that, you’re saving people. I don’t want all of our conversations to be me giving you shit for something you’ve done wrong. You’re a good guy, Will. Just… keep getting into shitty situations.”

Will snorted. “That’s kind of an understatement. And I get it, Jack. It’s all right. You’re right, I do have a knack for getting into shitty situations. That’s not your fault. I should be more careful.”

Jack gave him a rare smile. “You and I both have the fault of sometimes running our mouths. People just pay more attention to what you say.”

“You also have the advantage of people being afraid of you.”

Jack chuckled. “I like to think they respect me. But you’re probably right.”

“Speaking of shitty situations, by the way, when can I go home?” Will asked, remembering his need for clean clothing.

“A couple more days. We’re searching the whole place, maybe he left something behind other than eyes. It’s hard to find anything in between all that dog hair, though.”

Will smiled, deciding to ignore the eye part. “How are my dogs?”

“They’re good. They don’t have as much running space as they do at yours, but they’re managing. I’ll warn you though, Bella might not want to give them back.”

“I get that,” Will said with a grin, “but I’m going to have to insist on taking them back anyway.”

Jack smiled again. Will was amazed, he was lucky if he got this many smiles in a month.

“Anyway. I’m sure you have things to do. I’ll speak to you later, Will.”

Will nodded and stood up. He paused. “I’m glad we had this talk,” he said gruffly.

“Me too,” Jack said, even gruffer.

They gave each other an awkward nod, and Will quickly left.

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Alana greeted him with a long hug.

“Jack told me what happened. Christ, you must have had the fright of your life.”

Will smiled ruefully. “I kinda did. Not really what I expected to wake up to. But I’m fine. As soon as they’re done searching my house, the first thing I’m going to do is change the locks.”

Alana leaned back and frowned. “Do that. It surprises me that your dogs didn’t wake you.”

Will shrugged, remembering his nightmares from that night. “I was probably sleeping too deeply, I don’t know. Or maybe he was quick enough to just put down the package and leave.”

Alana pursed her lips, looking very unhappy. “I don’t know if you know, but I’m staying here for –”

“I know. Hannibal told me.”

Alana raised an eyebrow and nodded. “I heard you’re staying with him.”

Will nodded too, pushing down his glasses. “Yeah. He’s been very… nice.”

He saw Alana fight a smile, but she didn’t say anything. Her smile quickly disappeared again, though. “So now there’s the Chesapeake Ripper and this new killer. Do they have a name for him yet?”

Will shook his head. “Not that I know of. Lounds will probably cover him soon enough. She’ll think of something catchy.”

Alana frowned at the mention of Freddie Lounds, and opened her mouth to say something. Will stopped her with a raised hand. “Can we not just talk about shitty things, please? It feels like all I do these days, with everyone.”

Alana closed her mouth again and nodded. “I brought Margot with me,” she then said carefully, changing the subject for his sake. “I’d love for you two to meet.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “Uh… okay. Yeah, sure.”

She smiled. “I’m sure we can arrange something soon. Maybe Dr. Lec – Hannibal can join, as well.”

Will was _not_ going to ask if she was suggesting a fucking double date.

They talked for a little while longer, until Will’s break was done and he had to go back to class. Alana left him with the promise they’d see each other again soon.

The day passed slowly, his head continuously thumping. Back when he had encephalitis he at least had that to blame, now all he could blame it on was good, old-fashioned stress. Beverly walked into his classroom as he was packing up, and to his surprise, Jimmy and Brian followed. He raised an eyebrow at the team questioningly, pausing his stuffing of papers into his bag.

“Hey, Will. Just wanted to let you know that we found something else the killer left behind,” Beverly said. _And check if you were okay,_ she said with her eyes.

Will nodded, answering both the spoken and unspoken words.

“Yeah, we figured you were too busy to come by the lab with Jack yelling your head off for –” Price elbowed Zeller in the ribs before he could continue.

“For the Lounds article,” Will finished for him. “He didn’t so much yell as quietly tell me what a dumbass I am. But it’s fine. What did you find?”

Beverly had brought him pictures.

“Our killer has some fucked up teeth,” Zeller said with a grin.

“He took a bite out of some kind of cheddar wheel thing. Put it back in the fridge. Same bitemarks were found on Mrs. Leeds body,” Price explained.

“Also,” Beverly said, “You were right, there was something on the eyeballs. It was only a partial, though.”

“I ran an AFIS. He wasn’t in the print index,” Price said.

“ _Also_ ,” Zeller piped up, “They had a dog. They brought it to the vet the day they were killed.”

“So he hurts the pet first,” Will muttered to himself. He looked at the pictures with a frown, then glanced up. “Thanks for dropping in and keeping me updated. Can I take these with me?”

Beverly nodded. “That’s what I brought them for.”

“Thanks, Bev.”

“So… that dude sent you eyes huh. That’s messed up,” Zeller then said solemnly.

“Very messed up,” Price agreed.

“Guys,” Beverly warned.

“It was messed up, yeah. Are you guys almost done at my house?” Will snapped.

“Well, we’d be working a lot faster if there wasn’t the rest of the incompetent team waddling around like a bunch of toddlers,” Price said with raised eyebrows.

“We’re having a lot of fun snooping around, though,” Zeller then said with a wink. Will and Beverly both sent him a deadly glare. “Uh. I’m kidding. We wouldn’t snoop, of course.”

“That would be unprofessional. But a certain level of snooping is necessary, of course,” Price said.

Will pinched the bridge of his nose. Zeller and Price were doing absolutely nothing for his fucking head.

“How many dogs do you actually own, by the way? It’s like a giant hairball just exploded all over the house,” Zeller said.

“Good thing it’s not cats. I’m very allergic to cats,” Price said solemnly.

Zeller turned to him with a frown. “You own a cat.”

“That I do. But it’s only one, not like – how many dogs do you own, Will? Like eighty? – and I take my pills so –”

“Guys,” Beverly snapped. “Go be annoying somewhere else. I want to talk to Will.”

“That was mean,” Price said, clutching his chest and pretending to be hurt. “C’mon, Brian, we’ll go where we’re _wanted_. Bye, Will.”

“Later,” Zeller said over his shoulder as he and Price walked out.

“Why _is_ Katz always so mean?” Price asked as they walked away.

“She just wants to look tough, I’m pretty sure she’s secretly a complete softie,” Zeller replied, his voice distant as they shut the door behind them.

Beverly pursed her lips. “Dumbasses.”

Will snorted. “Now, that’s not true, Bev. We know they’re not dumbasses, at least.”

“Could have fooled me,” she muttered, before leaning against the desk and blowing out a breath.

“I’ll take it the date didn’t go well, then?”

Beverly softened a bit. “No, it was fun, actually. I had a good time. It’s just still a bit weird, you know. And Price doesn’t know shit.”

“I’d keep it that way, for now,” Will advised. “So have you guys been on another date since or…?”

Beverly shook her head. “Been too busy. We’re gonna see if next week works for us.”

Will smiled and nodded, and they were quiet for a while. Beverly turned to him.

“So. Dude decided to send you eyeballs. What’s up with that?”

Will let out a bark of laughter. “Its… refreshing to hear it phrased like that. What’s up with that, indeed. No fucking clue.”

“This sucks,” Beverly then said after some silence. “I don’t get why everyone’s targeting you all of a sudden. This new killer, Freddie Lounds, even fucking Chilton –” She stopped, taking a breath.

“Well, to be fair, Chilton hasn’t approached me since then.”

Beverly snorted. “Kudos to him.”

Will chuckled bitterly in agreement, and they both stood against the desk, shoulder to shoulder, their arms crossed.

“You’d tell me if anything happened, right? Like, if something was wrong, or some shit went down, I don’t know – if you feel like… like you might be getting close to how you felt last year,” Beverly then said slowly.

Will silently applauded her choice of words. He nodded. “I would. Tell you.”

Beverly gave a short nod in return. “Good. Good.”

She put a hand on his shoulder, and he put his hand on hers. They had a moment of understanding, of knowing what the other was thinking. Beverly was thinking that if Will tried to hide anything from her like he did last year, she’d kick his ass. Will was thinking that he knew she would kick his ass, and he wasn’t as stupid as last year anyway.

They gave each other a grin and went their own ways.

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Hannibal greeted him with a kiss and a glass of wine.

“Thanks, but I don’t think that’s smart. My head’s been sore all day,” Will said ruefully, setting the glass down on the counter.

Hannibal cocked his head, putting one hand on the side of Will’s neck and the other on his forehead. Will pulled away, somewhat embarrassed.

“It’s just stress. Nothing serious.”

“Have you taken any medicine?”

Will nodded. “A couple of aspirin.”

“And have you had enough to drink?”

Will gave a small laugh. “Your doctor is showing, Hannibal. Are you going to ask me if I want a lollipop?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Flirtatiously changing the subject won’t work on me, I’m afraid. I’ve heard I tend to do the same.”

He walked over to the fridge and poured Will a glass of water from a jug. Once Will had downed it and set the glass down on the counter pointedly, Hannibal nodded, then went to refill it. Will rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and downed that as well. He wiped his mouth.

“Beverly gave me pictures from the crime scene. They found a cheddar cheese wheel with a bite taken out of it, the bitemark matches the ones found on Mrs. Leeds’ body.”

Hannibal chuckled. “Wasting no time, I see.”

Will glanced up, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry. How… how was your day?”

It felt so weird to say that, so… normal. It was a phrase that didn’t fit within their situation, or Will’s situation, or Will’s life, to be honest.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow and put both hands on his shoulders. “I can see you want to get this over with. We can talk about how our days were after.”

Will nodded, grateful. He wouldn’t be able to get this killer out of his head until he had tried to properly understand who he was. He tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach from the warmth of Hannibal’s hand on his shoulders. If Hannibal noticed, he was nice enough not to mention it.

“Let’s go to the study,” Hannibal murmured, taking Will’s hand.

A while later, they were both standing over the table, the pictures strewn across it.

“This man… believes he’s disfigured, somehow. Whether it’s real or imaginary, I don’t know.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He smashed all the mirrors in the house, not just enough to get the pieces he needed. The shards are set so he can see himself. In their eyes.”

“He needs a family to escape what’s inside him,” Hannibal said quietly.

Will ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why he’s specifically targeting families. He hasn’t committed any other murders, for all we know.”

“Yet,” Hannibal said lightly.

Will nodded. “And how is he choosing the families?”

“I’m particularly interested in why he has chosen you to address.”

Will snorted. “I know. What makes me so special, right?”

Hannibal put a hand on Will’s lower back. The latter flinched, before leaning into the touch.

“Not how I would have chosen to phrase it, but in essence, yes. To him, anyway. He knows you can assume anyone’s perspective, thanks to Miss Lounds – but what made him so sure that he felt confident enough to send you… his ‘gift’ and assume you would understand?”

“I think… he thinks that right now, I am the only one who could possibly understand him. That could possibly see him for what he truly is.”

“And what is that?”

Will didn’t answer, thinking that if he knew, they would be a lot closer to catching him than they were right now.

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“So has all the focus within the FBI drifted from the Chesapeake Ripper towards this new killer?” Hannibal asked curiously.

They were sitting on the couch, comfortably full from dinner and both nursing a cup of coffee. Hannibal had carefully moved Will’s legs until they were resting on his lap.

Will stretched, starting to feel sleepy. “I don’t know. For the moment, maybe. But as soon as there’s another Ripper kill, which there will be, the focus will be shifted back again.”

“Hmm,” Hannibal said. “Busy times indeed.”

Will quirked an eyebrow at the odd statement. “It certainly is keeping people on their toes.”

“Has Jack told you when you’ll be allowed to go back home?”

Will blinked, and swallowed. “If I’m… overstaying my welcome –”

“Will, please. Of course you’re not,” Hannibal said firmly, squeezing his knee. “I was only asking because I can imagine how frustrating it must be to not be allowed to go into your own home. And how frightening it must be, in case they do actually find something.”

Will nodded, swallowing away his nagging self-doubt. “Jack said in a couple of days, tops.”

“You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like,” Hannibal said. “And you do look good in my clothes,” he added with a smirk.

Will chuckled and looked down at himself. “They don’t fit. And thank you for lending me them, by the way.”

Hannibal set his coffee down, and took Will’s cup from his hands as well. He leaned forward and cupped Will’s face, the latter’s eyes fluttering shut. Will drew a sharp breath when Hannibal’s lips brushed his, hands reaching up to his neck to rest there lightly. Hannibal turned his head to kiss him more deeply, and Will sighed quietly into his mouth. It was the gentlest thing in the world, and yet Will’s heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. Hannibal’s thumbs stroked the side of his face, and Will moved his hands to the back of Hannibal’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. Will moved forward, shifting so his legs were on either side of Hannibal’s waist, and the latter made a low sound in the back of his throat and moved them so he was leaning over Will.

Will’s breath started to come in short bursts, and Hannibal pulled away so he could kiss Will’s cheek, his jaw, the side of his neck. Will squirmed under him, fingers reaching down to struggle desperately with the buttons of Hannibal’s shirt.

Hannibal caught his hand and leaned up, pressing Will’s hand against his lips and kissing his knuckles.

“Come to bed?” he asked quietly.

Will swallowed, and nodded.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank youuuu for the feedback! hope you enjoy xx

Chapter 9

Hannibal led Will up the stairs. It took about twice as long as it should have, since they kept stopping to pull the other close and press their lips hungrily together. Will’s shirt ended up on the floor somewhere in the hall, and Hannibal’s shirt hadn’t even made it out of the study. Will’s mind was racing – he was overwhelmed, but at the same time wanted nothing more. Hannibal pushed him against the wall outside the bedroom door and kissed at his neck hungrily. It left Will feeling weak in the knees. He couldn’t stop a breathy moan from escaping, and Hannibal pulled away, a glint in his eye as he studied Will. Will ran his hands over Hannibal’s chest, feeling his nails dig into his shoulders.

Will then made a decision and sank to his knees, fingers fumbling with Hannibal’s belt. The latter’s eyes widened and he let out a sharp hiss.

“Will – the bedroom –” Hannibal stopped, his head falling back against the wall when Will got his belt loose and shoved his trousers down.

Will let his lips brush the bulge in Hannibal’s underwear, fingertips grazing lightly around it, teasing. He slowly pulled Hannibal’s underwear down, and Hannibal’s now freed cock rested against his belly. Will looked at him hungrily, leaning forward to slowly, carefully, lick a trail from the base to the tip. Hannibal cursed in a language Will didn’t recognise, and he leaned back again, grinning up at him.

“You still want to wait until we’re in the bedroom, or…?” he asked innocently.

Hannibal grabbed Will’s hair, nails digging into his scalp. “No,” he growled.

Will smirked and let himself be pulled back towards Hannibal, this time taking as much as he could into his mouth, hand resting where he couldn’t reach. Will let his tongue run over the tip of Hannibal’s cock, feeling the hands tighten in his hair. He then started bobbing up and down, sucking and licking, swallowing as much of Hannibal as he was physically able. He let his teeth graze ever so lightly along the base, and Hannibal hissed, releasing one hand from Will’s hair to run it through his own.

Will felt his own erection press insistently against his trousers, and he shifted, trying to alleviate the discomfort somewhat. He felt himself leaking, and he rubbed a hand along his crotch, moaning slightly. He looked up at Hannibal, who was staring down at him with hooded eyes, and there was that predatory look again – it was as arousing as it was intimidating. Will was amazed at how he could make Dr. Hannibal Lecter, renowned psychiatrist, collected, professional, painfully polite member of Baltimore’s high society – look as disheveled and wrecked as he looked right now. Will reveled in it, and his thoughts went to doing this to Hannibal at one of his fancy dinner parties – pleasure him secretly in the bedroom and have him return to his guests with his face flushed and hair messed up, lips swollen from kissing. The thought was almost enough to make Will come there and then.

Will sucked hard, swallowing the precum that leaked out of Hannibal’s cock with relish. Hannibal’s hands went down to Will’s cheeks, holding the sides of his face as Will continued to bob up and down. Will felt Hannibal’s hands trembling as he stroked along his cheekbones, and he took more of him into his mouth – up till the point it made him gag, and a bit further still. Hannibal’s hands tightened around his face and he thrust forward, Will feeling his eyes tear up slightly as Hannibal took control. Will continued to lick and suck as Hannibal fucked into his mouth, ignoring his growing need to pull away and take a breath, the enjoyment of Hannibal using him like this overpowering anything else.

“Will –” Hannibal then said suddenly, his voice low and tight.

Will looked up at him and went faster, giving his unspoken approval. Hannibal came then, with a quiet gasp, thrusting into Will’s mouth as he rode the aftershocks. Will swallowed everything, and didn’t pull away until Hannibal was slumped over, hand resting on Will’s shoulder for support. Only then did he slowly pull away, wiping his mouth as he rocked back on his heels and grinned shamelessly. Hannibal muttered something in the same language as before – Lithuanian, most likely – and pulled Will up, crashing their mouths together. Hannibal licked his mouth open, biting his lip – hard. Will groaned and pulled away, foreheads resting together, both panting slightly. Hannibal glanced at the door to the bedroom, only a few inches away from them.

“We were so close,” he said wistfully.

Will laughed, and Hannibal laughed as well, and he took Will’s hand as they went into the bedroom. When they had both properly undressed and were lying in bed, Hannibal took his face in his hands and kissed him, long and deep.

“That was…” Hannibal paused.

Will smirked against his mouth. “I noticed.”

Hannibal smiled, and his hand went to Will’s crotch, brushing over his cock lightly. Will shuddered before grasping his hand.

“It’s okay,” he said. “This… this is enough. For now.”

Hannibal nodded and pulled him close, pressing a kiss against his temple. Will curled into his chest, Hannibal’s arms wrapped around his waist. Their legs were tangled together, and Hannibal whispered soft words Will didn’t recognise in his ear until he fell asleep.

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Blood filled his mouth, his ears, ran into his eyes so he was blinded. He felt claws rake along his ribs, and he couldn’t scream, couldn’t move, couldn’t see. Palms ran along his eyelids, somehow removing the blood so he could open his eyes. He looked right into the milky white eyes of the demon, its antlers rising up more and more, spreading everywhere until they had taken up the whole space and Will was entangled in them. The demon was reaching towards him, hands curled up into fists as it stretched out its arms. Will looked down, frozen and not being able to do a thing. The hands opened to show him a pair of blue eyes, one eye in each palm. He looked back up at its face and it was grinning at him, its mouth huge, covering most of its face. Its teeth were as black as its skin, and covered in blood, the stuff dripping on his face. It gave him a pointed look before popping both of the eyes into its mouth.

Will woke, sitting up roughly. His breath came in short gasps, sweat trickling down his face as he stared into darkness, panic seizing his heart.

“ _Will_ ,” he heard a voice say sharply, and he dazedly let himself be pulled back down onto the bed and into someone’s chest.

Hannibal kept him there, putting Will’s ear against his heartbeat and shushing his gasps, running a hand up and down his back. After a while, Will stopped shaking and his breath came quieter. He focused on the sound of Hannibal’s heartbeat, imagining his own heartbeat matching it. He closed his eyes tightly, pulling himself closer to Hannibal.

“Do you want to talk?” Hannibal then asked softly, once Will had calmed down enough.

Will took a breath, then shook his head. “Later,” he muttered.

Hannibal nodded, and they were both silent in the darkness, Hannibal’s hands still rubbing his back gently. Will thought about how absurd it was, him waking up from a nightmare with someone holding him. It wouldn’t take long before this would be too much for Hannibal, he thought bitterly. There’s only so many times you can handle getting woken in the middle of the night by someone thrashing about. Eventually, Hannibal would get sick of this, sick of him, and the worst thing was, he couldn’t blame him.

He started shaking again, and he disentangled himself from Hannibal with a grunt. The latter made a concerned noise, sitting up.

“Will?”

He shook his head. “I need some space. Just… go back to sleep.”

Hannibal leaned over, turning on the lamp next to the bed. Will blinked against the light, turning to get out of bed. Hannibal grabbed his wrist.

“No,” Hannibal said calmly.

Will frowned, shaking him off. “I mean it, Hannibal. Go back to sleep. I’m just going to walk around for a bit. I’ll be fine.”

“Will, if you think I’m going back to sleep with you feeling like this, I’m afraid you have severely misjudged my character.”

“So change your character into someone who will go back to sleep with me feeling like this,” Will snapped.

Hannibal was quiet, eyeing him with an indecipherable expression. Will dug his palms into his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be right back, just… please go back to sleep.”

With that, he quickly stood up and left the room, not giving Hannibal a chance to reply. He made his way to the study in a daze, his head thumping and his heart drumming in his throat. He sat down on the couch, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He took a breath, his lungs feeling like he would never get enough. He felt himself shaking, and he didn’t know whether it was from the cold or something else. Probably both.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back. He might as well just leave, he supposed. He had been a dick to Hannibal, true to his nature. Hannibal was probably hoping he would leave, or thinking of ways to get him to. Will didn’t blame him. He felt tears stinging at the back of his eyes, and he wondered angrily why he had to ruin every good thing that came into his life. He dug his palms into his eyes, trying to force the tears back into his eyes. An image of the demon holding out the eyes flashed into his mind, and he shuddered, wondering desperately where his aspirin was. Some whiskey would do, too. But he could hardly raid Hannibal’s drink cabinet after how he’d just behaved, and considering the fact that Hannibal wouldn’t want to see him again… it seemed a bit too rude, even for Will.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt something touch his shoulders, and he opened his eyes to see Hannibal drape a blanket over him. Will tried to give a smile in thanks, but it wouldn’t come. Hannibal sat down next to him, not uttering a word. After a few moments of silence, Hannibal slowly reached out a hand, putting it on the couch next to Will, palm up. Will looked at it for a few moments, feeling a pain in his chest that threatened to consume him. He took a deep breath before putting his hand in Hannibal’s. It was warm, and the latter threaded their fingers together, squeezing.

Will took another breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Hannibal didn’t reply for a while. “There is no need to apologise. Are you all right?”

Will gave a short laugh, although it came out more like a sob. “You were supposed to go back to sleep.”

“Unfortunately I didn’t manage to change my character enough to do that.” There was a slight hint of amusement in his voice.

Will ran a hand through his hair. “God, I’m such a dick. You don’t have to put up with this, you know.” He looked him in the eyes for the first time since they were sitting there, and hoped that Hannibal understood the implications. _It’s always going to be like this._

“I’ve told you before, Will. It will take more than your hostility to offend me,” Hannibal said gently.

Will gave a bitter smile, letting go of Hannibal’s hand. “For now. This isn’t something that happens every now and again. I consider it a good day if I get five hours of sleep. I don’t… I don’t know if this is a good idea. It’s not fair to you.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “I think I should be the judge of what is and isn’t fair to me, don’t you?”

Will sighed. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. And besides,” Hannibal then gave a smirk, “you haven’t seen me on a bad day yet. We can talk about fairness to the other then.”

Will snorted. “Do you even have bad days?”

“I’m a human being, Will, of course I have bad days.”

“I bet you express your bad days by not putting as much effort into cooking an elaborate meal as you usually do. Or by not making your bed. Or you’re mildly impolite to the check-out girl.”

Hannibal huffed a quiet laugh. “Do you really think me so incapable of expressing anger or frustration?”

Will raised an eyebrow, smiling despite himself. “Yeah, actually.”

Hannibal smirked, carefully pulling Will towards him so he was leaning against his chest. Will let him.

“Like I said, we’ll have this conversation when you see me on a bad day.”

They were quiet again for a while, and Hannibal adjusted the blanket so Will was properly covered. The latter sighed quietly, his shivering having stopped.

“Will you tell me about your nightmare?” Hannibal then murmured.

Will swallowed, and shook his head slowly. “No. But I’ll write it down. And we’ll talk about it then. Tomorrow.”

Hannibal nodded, and Will closed his eyes when he felt him press a kiss on the top of his head. Hannibal leaned back so that they were both lying down, and Will listened to the sound of Hannibal’s heartbeat once again, curled into each other because of the limited space, until they both fell asleep again.

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Morning came, and with it responsibilities. Will woke with a crick in his neck and Hannibal’s arms wrapped tightly around him. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Hannibal’s mouth, and the latter grunted, his eyes still closed as his face searched for Will’s lips.

“We need to get up,” Will croaked.

Hannibal nodded, finally opening his eyes and blinking several times.

“I’ll make us some coffee,” he then murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

They got up, Hannibal leading the way to the kitchen, Will stumbling after him, blanket wrapped around him tightly. As they waited for the coffee, Hannibal turned and looked at Will, smirking.

“That is a good look for you,” he commented innocently.

Will had caught a look of himself in one of the mirrors in the hallway, and he knew his hair was sticking up on all ends and his eyes were squeezed half-closed from tiredness. Above that, his lips were swollen from all the kissing they had done last night and he had a couple of marks on his neck. He was sure the blanket just added to all that.

“I’m glad my appearance is funny to you,” he said, mildly annoyed.

Hannibal chuckled, wandering over to him and planting a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m starting to gather you are not a morning person.”

Will gave him a lop-sided smile despite himself. “Good deduction.”

Hannibal was about to reply, but was interrupted by his own yawn. Will looked at him guiltily, knowing that he was the cause of Hannibal’s exhaustion.

“I’m sorry. That’s my fault,” he said quietly.

Hannibal shook his head. “Don’t fret, dear Will. I will live.”

Will was quiet for a while. “Do you have a notebook?” he then said.

Hannibal nodded. “Just a moment.”

He left the room to presumably go to the study, and he returned with a notebook and a pen. Will took it from him with a smile of thanks, before sitting down. He started writing, and they were both silent for a while as Hannibal started preparing breakfast. Will barely registered Hannibal setting down a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. He finished when Hannibal was still making breakfast, and he took a big gulp of the coffee that had cooled considerably. He went and stood next to Hannibal, who looked up when Will handed him the notebook.

Hannibal set the notebook on the counter, reading as he expertly flipped the contents of a skillet. Will went back to his seat and silently sipped his coffee, hands trembling slightly. Hannibal finished reading and didn’t say a word until he had set two plates with crepes on the table.

“It isn’t hard to imagine why you were so distressed,” he then said carefully.

Will shrugged, taking a bite of his crepe. It was filled with ham and cheese, and was one of the most delicious things he had ever eaten.

“Are all your nightmares like this?” Hannibal then asked, also digging into his food.

“Mostly. They’re all different, but they’re all the same, somehow. Always dark and bloody and… terrifying.” Will’s voice trembled on the last word, and he shoveled more food into his mouth.

“This… demon, you describe. Does it make an appearance often?”

Will paused. “That’s a recent thing. First, it was just a black, feathered stag, but it changed into that. But yes, since it started, it’s been in every one of my nightmares. This is delicious, by the way, thank you.”

Hannibal smiled. “You are welcome. We can sit down and properly discuss your nightmare later tonight. Is that all right with you?”

Will nodded. “Yeah.”

Hannibal nodded, and they ate the rest of their meal in silence. Too soon, it was time for them both to get ready and leave. Will left Hannibal with a kiss that was part apology and part promise. He knew Hannibal understood.

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“The Tooth Fairy,” Beverly snorted, blowing into her coffee cup.

Will scanned the Tattle Crime article Beverly had opened on the laptop.

“I have a feeling he’s not going to like that name,” he muttered.

“Who would? The name sucks,” Beverly replied.

“Once again, Freddie Lounds has outdone herself,” Will scoffed, closing the article.

“I guess it has a better ring to it than the Family Killer. Or the Mirror Man,” Beverly replied.

Will gave a wry smile. “You just come up with that?”

“No. I was waiting to say that until you read the article,” Beverly admitted.

“The Mirror Man was pretty good,” Will said.

“Wonder what the Chesapeake Ripper’s going to think of this guy,” Beverly then said thoughtfully.

Will paused. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, serial killers don’t really like to share. Whether it’s victims or notoriety.” She gestured at the laptop. “If this guy strikes again, he’s going to become a bigger headline than the Ripper. Don’t imagine he’ll like that.”

Will frowned. “You think he’s going to retaliate, in some way?”

Beverly gave a little laugh. “What do I know? I’m just thinking.”

Will nodded, still frowning. He hadn’t thought about that, and it was a very interesting train of thought. He shook his head.

“This is getting too much. I had my head so set on the Ripper, and now this guy arrives. It’s difficult to focus on them both fully.”

Beverly nodded. “I get it. To be honest, Will, I would not want to be in your shoes.”

Will gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I don’t really want to be in my shoes right now, either.”

Beverly eyed him. “Focus on one of them at a time. Try to shut the other out. When you’re focusing on the Ripper, the… the fucking Tooth Fairy, I _guess_ , doesn’t exit. And vice versa.”

Will nodded. “That’s… that’s actually a good idea. Thanks, Bev.”

“I get good ideas every once in a while. So which one is it gonna be today?”

Will’s fingers tapped on his leg, and he barked a laugh. “Neither, I fucking think. I’m going to take a rest today. Jack hasn’t cornered me yet, and there’s been no new developments. So, just for today, I’m going to give my head a rest.”

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Jack told him that he’d be able to go home tomorrow. As happy as Will was to be able to see his dogs again, part of him was disappointed it hadn’t taken longer. They hadn’t found anything, of course. He wondered how often he’d see Hannibal when he was back home. He wondered if Hannibal would be relieved. He probably would.

As he drove to Hannibal’s house, he wondered how Hannibal would react. He was a bit earlier than usual, and he was still wondering when he rang the doorbell. It took a bit longer than usual for Hannibal to open the door.

“Will. You’re early,” Hannibal said, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah, sorry. I should have called. My last lecture ended half an hour ago, and Jack didn’t keep me in.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m just finishing up with a patient. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Hannibal left him to go back to the study, and he made his way to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. He saw the notebook, still on the table, and read over it again. He wondered at how Hannibal had managed to make out what any of it fucking said, because even he was having difficulty and he was the author. He remembered he’d left his phone in his jacket, which was hanging by the door, and he went to collect it.

“What sort of friend?” he heard a voice say, and he paused outside the study.

“A friend, Franklyn,” he heard Hannibal reply. There was an edge of exasperation to his voice.

“You don’t want to be my friend. What makes this guy so different?” the man – Franklyn – continued.

“Our relationship is different, Franklyn. You know this.”

“I don’t get it. We like the same things, we go to the same events. I’m a great friend.”

Will grimaced, having heard enough, and he continued to the hallway to get his phone, pitying Hannibal slightly. He went back to the kitchen, deliberately not hanging about outside the study. After a while, Hannibal joined him, immediately pouring himself a glass of wine. Will grinned.

“Rough day?”

Hannibal took a sip before answering. “The last patient I had can be… challenging, sometimes.”

Will considered making a joke about how Franklyn only wanted a friend, before remembering what Jack had told him earlier today. It sobered him up enough to let the joke slide.

“Jack says I can go home tomorrow,” he then said, staring at his glass of water.

“How does that make you feel?” Hannibal then asked carefully.

Will gave a wry smile. “Happy, partly. I get to see my dogs again. But on the other hand…”

“You know you are welcome to come here whenever you like,” Hannibal said gently.

“I can’t, though. I have my dogs,” Will said, taking a gulp of water.

“Then I’ll come to you,” Hannibal said simply. “If you’ll let me.”

Will looked up and smiled. “I’d like that. Very much.”

Hannibal smiled too, and made his way over to him. They kissed, long and deep. Will wondered if Hannibal’s kisses would ever stop leaving him feel breathless. He sincerely doubted it. Hannibal pulled away, and seemed to think about something for a while.

“Would you like to discuss your nightmare, Will?” he then asked quietly, thumb brushing his cheek.

Will took a breath and nodded. They went to the study, and Hannibal opened the notebook again, reading over what Will had written down.

“Let’s start with the blood,” Hannibal said, his tone taking on a note of professionalism. “You write that it’s in your ears, your mouth, your eyes. You are effectively blinded, deafened, and muted by it. What do you think this could mean?”

Will let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Going out on a limb here, something – or someone – is blinding, deafening and muting me. In the figurative sense.”

“Something is blocking your senses. Hiding something from you?” Hannibal said thoughtfully.

Will nodded. “Maybe. Or… maybe that’s just representing how I feel, in general. Blocked by everything around me, never fully grasping what I need…”

Hannibal took notes. It made Will feel slightly uncomfortable, until he realised that he was writing them down in the same notebook – free for Will to read and discuss.

“The eyes is an obvious thing,” Will then said, scoffing. “The demon showing them to me… eating them… that, I have no fucking clue about.”

“To know that, we’d have to figure out what the demon represents,” Hannibal said. “Can I make a guess?”

Will nodded.

“Have you considered that it might be the Chesapeake Ripper?”

Will frowned, rubbing his face. “That… is possible. I have considered it, yes. Constantly haunting my waking mind, it shouldn’t be surprising that he haunts my dreams, as well.”

“And since your subconscious does not have a face for him – yet – this is what it comes up with.”

“Would have appreciated something a little less morbid,” Will said, snorting.

“Perhaps when you finally catch him, your subconscious will stop making him so morbid,” Hannibal said lightly.

Will raised his eyebrows. “I hope that by the time we catch him, I won’t be having nightmares about him at all.”

“I hope so too,” Hannibal replied solemnly.

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When they went to bed, both too exhausted to do anything but wrap their arms around each other, Will wished he could stay forever in this moment. He listened to the sound of Hannibal’s quiet breathing, and decided that if he had another nightmare tonight, he would make sure not to wake him. No matter what Hannibal said, it wasn’t fair to him to have to suffer with Will.

Luckily, it was another one of those rare nights where he didn’t dream, waking only to Hannibal pressing sleepy kisses to his head.

Will had a day off, but Hannibal didn’t.

Will was quiet as they sat in the kitchen, not wanting to face the reality that, inevitably, today would end up with Will sleeping alone. Hannibal was quiet too, preparing breakfast yet again. Will wondered idly for how long he would be able to enjoy Hannibal’s cooking. When Hannibal set the plates on the table, Will gave him a smile that probably came out as more of a grimace, and started eating. Hannibal didn’t. He lightly tapped his fork on the table, and Will felt his gaze on him.

“You are being exceptionally quiet, even for this early hour,” Hannibal then said.

Will glanced up, biting his lip. “I’m… thinking about tonight.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “What about tonight?”

Will shrugged, chewing slowly to delay having to answer. This was ridiculous, he would be seeing enough of Hannibal at work – and it wasn’t like he was under the assumption that he would be staying for a long time. He had a distinct feeling that he was becoming too attached, too quickly, and he wondered whether Hannibal noticed and was experiencing the same.

“I guess I’m just a bit sad about leaving, is all,” he then said with a rueful smile, staring down at his plate.

“There is no need to be sad, Will. I’m fairly certain this won’t be the last time you’ll be staying here,” Hannibal said, a smile in his voice.

“I know. I’m being dumb.”

“No, you’re not. In fact, I feel the same way.”

Will looked up, allowing a small smile. “That would mean we’re both being dumb.”

Hannibal smirked. “I am many things, Will, but I assure you, ‘dumb’ is not one of them. The same goes for you.”

Will put his hand on Hannibal’s, and they ate in silence, some of the tension lifted.

 Before Will left, Hannibal kissed him deeply, promising to visit him the next day. Will drove home, having picked up his dogs from Bella, with a somber feeling. He spent the day lying on the couch, watching TV. He immediately missed Hannibal’s dinners when he stuck a pizza into the oven, cheered up only by his dogs showing him exactly how much they’d missed him.

He fell asleep eventually, lonely and restless, knowing this would not be a good night.

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He was having coffee the next morning, mind racing with memories of yet another nightmare – his eyes in the demon’s hands, this time – when his phone rang.

“Will,” Jack greeted him. He could hear from his voice that this wasn’t a courtesy call.

“Jack.”

“There’s been another one.”

Will took a large gulp from his coffee. “Which one?”

Jack sighed. “It’s the Ripper.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! as always, thank you for the kind comments/bookmarks/kudos etc. sorry this one's a bit late, i've been quite busy (drinking and being hungover since it's the holidays lol) but here it is! hope you enjoy <3

Chapter 10

The victim was a white male, somewhere between 30 and 40. He was found in a motel room, naked and kneeling, his arms tied together and raised to make it look like he was begging. In his hands were his eyes, including the optic nerves. Bright blue irises. Both of the eyes had been pierced with mirror shards – but the shards hadn’t been taken from any of the mirrors hanging around the room. There were mirrors on the ceiling, on the walls, even on the floor. None of them had been smashed in any way.

Will, not for the first time, was shocked into silence when he saw the scene. But this time another feeling gripped him, a feeling different from the usual anguish and anxiety at seeing crime scenes. Dread. It filled him from his head to his toes, a numbing feeling that put him in a daze. Because he immediately knew what this was. There wasn’t a doubt.

“It’s a warning,” he said hoarsely to Jack.

“To?” the latter asked tersely, although they both knew he knew the answer.

“The Tooth Fairy. To…,” his voice faltered and he cleared his throat. “To stay away from me.”

Jack crossed his arms, silent for a while as he stared at the scene. “He looks like you,” he then said quietly.

He was right. The dark, curly hair, the scruffy beard – even the glasses which were still resting in front of empty eyeholes. Will swallowed, not responding.

“Is this a threat to you, Will?” Jack then asked sharply.

Will swallowed again, slowly shaking his head. “No. This is… very obviously a warning to leave me alone. The eyes with the shards pierced into them, the mirrors everywhere… the Ripper is mocking him.”

“The bowels have been removed,” Beverly said sourly from her place next to the victim, kneeling next to him, pulling Will momentarily out of his daze.

“Along with the spleen. Who the hell takes bowels as a surgical trophy?” Price exclaimed.

“Maybe he’s making sausage,” Zeller added with a snort.

Will froze before turning to Zeller so fast he almost got whiplash. “What did you say?” he said sharply.

Zeller gave him a confused look. “I… I said the Ripper’s making sausage. It was a joke,” he said feebly.

Will blinked, and in his mind something clicked into place, the sound of the realisation echoing in his head.

“He’s eating them,” he breathed.

“What was that?” Jack barked.

“He’s… he’s eating them. He’s eating them, Jack,” Will said quietly, running his hands through his hair.

“He’s eating them,” Jack repeated blankly.

Will nodded wildly. “It all makes sense… Christ, I’ve been wondering what he does with the organs for so long, it’s ridiculous I never thought of this. Fucking hell, Jack, he eats people. That’s why he takes organs all the time. Not because they’re surgical trophies – but because they’re his dinner.”

Jack glanced around at the shocked faces before stepping forward and pulling Will aside.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked quietly.

Will took a breath and nodded. “Positive, Jack.”

Jack looked at him for a long time, frowning. Then he nodded, looking as if he carried all the weight of the world on his shoulders.

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Will went home. Even Jack had agreed to this, giving him a worried look and assuring him that he would be informing Dr. Lecter of everything. Will wouldn’t have to worry about that, he’d said.

He’d avoided Beverly’s attempt to pull him aside, and, hours later, ignored Alana’s calls. He had sat himself down on the couch since he’d come in, bottle of whiskey and a glass beside him, and hadn’t moved since.

He drank until he felt numb, his surroundings rippling and fading, until eventually they disappeared all together and it was just him and the darkness surrounding him. There was a faint thumping inside his head, seeming to echo around the room. The fear and anguish that had gripped his heart earlier had faded away slightly with every glass of whiskey he’d had. He wasn’t thinking, yet at the same time was thinking everything at once. When he closed his eyes all he could see was himself kneeling with his eyes in his hands.

A faint tapping sound joined the thumping, starting quietly but growing louder and louder until Will realised that someone was at the door. He ignored it, looking around to see the room spinning. He had no idea how much time had passed since he had sat down. He found himself not really caring.

The knocking had stopped, and Will closed his eyes, relieved. That feeling was short-lived when he heard the door gently open and footsteps near him. He cursed himself. He really should start locking that fucking door.

The footsteps stopped in front of him, but Will still couldn’t bear to open an eye. He felt someone gently take the glass and bottle from his hands and set it down somewhere. Then he felt a weight next to him on the couch, and he finally cracked an eye open to see Hannibal sitting beside him.

They regarded each other in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come in earlier. I have been quite busy all day and didn’t hear what had happened until the end of the day,” Hannibal then said lightly, folding his hands neatly on his lap.

Will closed his eyes again, the spinning room being too much for him to handle right now. “You can’t just walk into someone’s house,” he slurred, though there was no real feeling behind it.

“I was worried about you, Will.”

Will shrugged, and dimly noticed someone laughing. It took a while to realise it was him, and as soon as he did, he abruptly stopped.

He felt a cool hand on the back of his neck and he leaned into the touch, trying to swallow the sudden lump that had appeared in his throat.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” he breathed.

Hannibal hmm’d quietly and moved his hand from Will’s neck to his forehead. “I’m going to make you some coffee,” he murmured.

He made a move to get up, and Will’s eyes shot open and he pulled him back by his shirt.

“No. Don’t leave me,” he said quietly, clinging onto Hannibal’s sleeve like it was a lifeline.

He faintly realised he was going to absolutely hate himself the next day, but couldn’t really bring himself to care at the moment.

“I’m not going to leave you, Will,” Hannibal murmured, gently retracting Will’s hand from his sleeve and clasping it with his own.

He pulled Will’s head onto his chest and held him, stroking his hair. Will’s eyes fluttered closed and they sat there for a while in silence.

“I’m afraid,” Will then whispered, eyes squeezed shut.

Hannibal tilted Will’s head up gently by his chin so that they were looking at each other. Will blinked harshly, trying to force his eyes to focus.

“Of what, dear Will?”

Will took a breath. “Of… of the Ripper. Of the Tooth Fairy.”

“No one is going to harm you, Will. No one,” Hannibal said quietly. There was a promise there. Will decided to think about that when he wasn’t on the verge of puking.

“I’m afraid of myself,” Will then said, although it didn’t seem like his own voice.

At this Hannibal paused, and Will closed his eyes again, settling his head back on Hannibal’s chest and wishing he hadn’t said anything.

“Of who you might become, under certain circumstances,” Hannibal then said quietly.

Will nodded slowly. “I feel as if that may become a greater possibility every day.”

Hannibal suddenly put his hands on the side of Will’s face, pulling it back up towards him again. He fixed him with a piercing stare, dark eyes gazing into Will’s blue ones as if they were the only two people in the world. Will had the strange feeling Hannibal was looking right through to the back of his skull.

“You are becoming more beautiful every day,” Hannibal then murmured.

Will blinked, not entirely understanding. Hannibal gave him a smile, and moved away gently. “I am going to make you some coffee. I’ll be right back.”

This time, Will let him go, slumping back on the couch and chewing on what Hannibal had said. Something was tapping at the back of Will’s skull – something he couldn’t grasp no matter how hard he tried. Him being drunk didn’t help. He realised that he’d had this tapping feeling a lot when with Hannibal. He couldn’t figure out what it meant, even while sober. He ran a hand across his face, deciding he was feeling too shitty for this.

Always thinking, always wondering, always doubting. He was getting so sick of his own mind. The fear that had managed to slip away slowly slithered back in, and he clenched his fists, breaking the skin of his palms with his nails. It was his mind that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. It was one thing to be acknowledged by a man who murdered families, let alone to be… what, protected? from said man by the fucking _Chesapeake Ripper._ That meant the Ripper knew him, or knew of him. He knew of him and apparently he liked what he saw enough to threaten whoever tried to reach out to him. It was a terrifying thought. _Not just terrifying,_ a tiny voice in the back of his mind said. A voice he was trying very, very hard to ignore. _Not just terrifying._

_Flattering._

Will shook his head, trying to dispel that ugly thought. What the fuck was wrong with him that he could find something like this flattering? He could see himself fall apart. Shatter into a million little pieces, like the mirrors the Tooth Fairy liked to break.

“Will.”

He opened his eyes to see Hannibal standing before him with a cup of coffee. He reached out to take it, his hand trembling, and he could feel the coffee burn his hand as it spilled over the rim. He ignored the pain and took a sip. The coffee was a bitter slap in the face and he felt it disagree with the current contents of his stomach while simultaneously making him realise how drunk he actually was. He looked up to see Hannibal regard him with pursed lips, and he took the coffee from him again. A few moments later, Will felt him wipe away the coffee from his hands with a cold, wet cloth.

“Go to sleep, Will,” Hannibal said, and his voice swam around Will’s mind.

He closed his eyes and nodded, letting himself flop sideways onto the couch. “Just a nap,” he murmured.

He was asleep before he had registered Hannibal putting a blanket over him.

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He woke with a thumping headache and a disgustingly dry feeling in his mouth. Rustling in the kitchen made him crack an eye open, and he found it was completely dark. He suddenly remembered the fact that Hannibal was in his house, and he sat up abruptly. This was a mistake as he found that, while not as drunk as before, he was still certainly not sober. He grit his teeth as the room spun and waited for it to settle before slowly standing up, swaying slightly and putting a hand to the wall for support.

He stumbled to the kitchen to see Hannibal sitting at the table with a dog treat between thumb and forefinger, holding it at arm’s length. Winston was sitting in front of him, tail wagging hesitantly as he stared at the treat with concentration. Hannibal let go of it and Winston snapped it out of the air before chewing it with relish. Hannibal looked up and regarded Will with raised eyebrows.

“How are you feeling?”

Will frowned and rubbed a hand across his face, sitting down in the chair opposite Hannibal heavily. “Still drunk. Not quite as badly as before.”

“That is to be expected. You only slept for a short while and you were _quite_ drunk,” Hannibal said with a wry smile.

Will ducked his head. “Fuck, I’m sorry. How long have I been asleep?”

Hannibal glanced at his watch. “A little over three hours. I was actually about to wake you. I made this a moment ago since I figured you would be in strong need of it.”

He handed Will a cup of coffee, freshly made. “Let’s try again, shall we?” he said, a playful edge to his voice.

Will raised his eyebrows and took a long sip. “I’m kind of surprised you stayed.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “We did arrange to meet today, Will.”

“Oh, fuck. Jesus. We did, didn’t we?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “No need to worry. Neither of us could exactly anticipate what would happen.”

Will nodded, letting out a slow breath. “I wish you hadn’t seen me like that.”

Hannibal made a dismissive sound before pouring the contents of a pot on the stove into a bowl. Will blinked, not having noticed there even being a pot on the stove.

“I brought you some soup. I’m afraid I have already eaten,” Hannibal said, putting the steaming bowl in front of him.

Will looked at him guiltily. “I don’t blame you, it’s nine thirty in the fucking evening. Hannibal, you should have just left. You shouldn’t have had to sit around here doing nothing.”

Hannibal smiled. “I amused myself perfectly,” he said, gesturing at the pile of dogs in the living room. “Besides, I think you deserved those few hours. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now, Will.”

Will avoided his eyes. “This is good soup.”

Hannibal gave a dry chuckle. “Thank you.”

Will ate his soup in silence, silently congratulating himself on not spilling any.

“Do you think the Chesapeake Ripper wants to hurt you, Will?” Hannibal abruptly asked.

Will paused, spoon half-way to his mouth. He let it drop back into his bowl. “I don’t know. I don’t understand why he’s… taken an interest.” It felt weirdly like deja-vu, saying those words. The more he thought about it the more light-headed he got.

“What do either of them want with me?” he then muttered, somewhat despairingly.

Hannibal gave him a thoughtful look. “You think they want the same thing?”

Will frowned, closing his eyes. “I don’t know. I feel… I feel as if something’s going to happen, soon. I feel like this is all building up to something huge and… and I don’t know if I’m going to survive it.”

“Why do you think you won’t survive it?”

Will swallowed. “I’m caught in the middle of a game between two serial killers. One of them wants me to understand them, and the other… I don’t know. The other basically told the first to fuck off. Why? I have no fucking clue. I don’t know how this is going to end, but I know me being smack in the middle of it isn’t good news.”

Hannibal was silent for a while. “You seem awfully convinced this is going to end badly for you.”

Will shrugged. “Like I said before, these things escalate. And now I guess there’s twice the interest there was before.”

He slumped over, what little appetite he’d had gone. “Maybe I should stick to the old plan and move to the mountains to live life as a hermit,” he muttered.

Hannibal gave him an indulging smile, reaching over and resting his hand on Will’s head. “I shouldn’t have brought it up so soon. Come, let’s get some air.”

Will looked up with a rumpled frown. “What? You want to take a leisurely stroll in the pitch black? There’s coyotes,” he mumbled.

“Not a leisurely stroll, but rather a leisurely drive. I think it would do you some good to get out of the house for a little while.”

Will chewed his bottom lip. “Hannibal, I’m tired…”

“Then it’s a good thing I shall be the one doing the driving. I’ll get your coat, shall I?” He was gone before Will could protest any further.

The latter sighed, knowing that Hannibal was right, he needed to get out for a while. So he let himself be led outside, and only stumbled a couple of times on his way to Hannibal’s car. The fresh air immediately did him good, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling his fuzzy thoughts clear somewhat.  

They drove in silence for a while, and Will stared out of his window, appreciating the scattering of stars across the night sky. He tapped his fingers lightly on his lap and eventually turned to Hannibal.

“I had an epiphany earlier,” he said quietly.

Hannibal glanced over to him. “Do tell.”

“The Ripper. He’s…”

“Eating his victims,” Hannibal finished. At the startled glance Will gave him, he gave a dry smile. “Jack told me.”

“Ah.” Of course he did.

“What made you come to this realisation?”

Will snorted. “Zeller made a joke.”

“Oh? Was it a particularly good one?” came the amused question.

Will shook his head. “He suggested the Ripper was making sausage. Because of the missing bowels.”

“How… insightful. And so you concluded that yes, the Ripper was indeed making sausage?”

Will gave shrug. “Basically, yup.”

Hannibal sent him a smirk. “Then I suppose I’ll have to improvise on breakfast tomorrow.”

Will barked a laugh. “You brought sausage?”

Hannibal nodded. “I did. I can’t imagine you’ll want any considering your epiphany.”

“We’ll see how we feel tomorrow,” Will replied with a smile.

The tapping in the back of his mind got louder.

He sighed in frustration and resorted to biting his nails, trying to ignore it. Hannibal noticed this and took his hand to hold it instead.

“So you were right in suspecting the Ripper didn’t keep surgical trophies.”

Will nodded, rolling his eyes despite himself. “At least Jack took me seriously this time.”

“Maybe this means he will take you more seriously in the future, as well.”

Will scoffed. “I should fucking hope so.”

Hannibal smiled, raising Will’s hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles gently. “In the future,” he murmured between kisses, “I would prefer you to come to me after something distressing rather than the bottle.”

Will bit his lip, his fingers fluttering lightly in Hannibal’s grasp. “Old habits die hard,” he whispered with a sad smile.

“You turned to the bottle after the Minnesota Shrike.”

Will nodded, couldn’t bring himself to speak.

“You have me now, Will,” Hannibal said quietly. “You have me, _mylimasis_.”

Will blinked at the strange word, but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he lightly squeezed Hannibal’s hand, trying to silently convey how much that meant.

“Where are we going?” Will then asked quietly.

Hannibal didn’t reply but sent him a soft smile. Will leaned back in his seat, staring out of the window once more.

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They were in a field, the only light coming from the many stars in the sky and the slither of moon above them. It was quiet and cold, and Will watched his breath come out in a mist. There was a scattering of trees a bit further away, but other than that there was nothing except the road behind them.

Will stared at the sky, briefly imagining lifting up and floating away into the stars, the glittering lights surrounding him, swirling around him like fireflies. He imagined himself far away, unreachable by anyone, with only the stars for company. But he wasn’t alone. Hannibal was there with him, and they touched hands, only to bleed into each other. In his mind, Will stared in fascination as their skins turned dark as the night sky and glittered with stars of their own. Both of them containing their own galaxy, and both of them flowing into the other.

He closed his eyes and felt a hand on his shoulder. In his mind the countless stars fell to the ground, falling around him and Hannibal, surrounding them with fiery orbs of light, landing everywhere but not hitting them. Illuminating them. Covering the entire world with darkness, save for where they were standing.

“Stay with me, Will,” Hannibal murmured in his ear.

Will kept his eyes closed but leaned into Hannibal’s chest. “Where else would I go?” he whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO folks, i present to you the next chapter. not that this is interesting but i have a platform to complain so i shall, i got (the last of) my wisdom teeth removed yesterday and i am in PAIN, popping ibuprofen like they're mints and already fucking sick of soup and yoghurt :) ANYWAY i hope yall enjoy and thank you as always for the feedback!

Chapter 11

Will’s dreams contained starry nights, swirling galaxies, flickering flames and blood blackened by moonlight.

Slowly, he became more and more aware of arms wrapped tightly around him and a head resting on top of his. He sighed blissfully, nuzzling into Hannibal’s chest and trying to fall back asleep. He could hear Hannibal breathe deeply and slowly, indicating the latter was still asleep. Will considered this, this rare moment where Hannibal didn’t have the upper hand. Where Hannibal was the vulnerable one instead of Will. He decided not to linger on the fact that apparently the only time Hannibal seemed vulnerable to Will was when he was asleep.

Will lightly traced his fingers over Hannibal’s chest, fascinated at the fact that Hannibal, well, slept. He slept just like any other human being, and yet he was so unlike any other human being Will had ever encountered. Will wished they could prolong this moment forever. In this moment they were in limbo, the worries of the day so far away and yet so inevitable. All he had to think about right now was Hannibal’s arms around him, his quiet breath and warm body, the rising winter sun covering the room in a warm, orange glow.

He decided that no matter what, he would always have this memory in his mind. This captured moment, this feeling of peace and bliss and… happiness, even. It was rare, and he held onto it with all his power.

Hannibal’s hands tightened on his back and his breathing changed, and Will knew he had woken up. He smiled a little wistfully and pressed his lips onto Hannibal’s chest, resulting in a low, approving sound from the latter.

“Good morning,” Will whispered.

“Good morning,” Hannibal breathed, his eyes still closed as he lightly traced his fingertips over Will’s back.

“It’s still early. We could go back to sleep,” Will then said.

“Could it be possible that today… neither of us have anywhere to be or anything to do?” Hannibal’s voice was quiet and rough from sleep, and Will could hear a smile in it.

He smiled too. “It’s the weekend. So yes, it is possible.”

“Then I don’t want to waste it sleeping.” Hannibal abruptly rolled them over so he was leaning over Will, and he kissed him, Will chuckling into the kiss.

Neither of them had voiced it, but after that night at Hannibal’s they hadn’t had sex. It seemed like something was always… not right, whether it be the fact that they were both exhausted, or because Will wasn’t feeling well, or whatever else. Will had to admit that he was probably mostly responsible. He didn’t know how he felt about that, since somehow he was still not ready to completely give in. He didn’t know why, and he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t trust Hannibal. There was just something stopping him from letting go. He was worried that soon Hannibal would get frustrated by this and decide it wasn’t worth it. Added up with everything else Will had put him through, he wouldn’t blame him in the least.

This train of thought soured Will’s mood considerably, and he pulled away and sat up, trying not to be obvious about it. Hannibal gave him a scrutinising look, but made no comment. Instead, he sat up as well, leaning back.

“Breakfast?” he said after a moment.

Will forced a smile and nodded, practically leaping out of bed.

Hannibal followed him to the kitchen, where Will immediately set to giving the dogs their breakfast and Hannibal started making coffee.

“Has your opinion changed on sausages, or shall I make something else?” Hannibal’s tone was carefully playful.

Will blinked, suddenly yanked back into yesterday’s discoveries. He briefly closed his eyes. The brief ignorance had been nice. He rubbed a hand over his face, his stomach turning at the thought of sausages, but he didn’t want to be rude.

“No, it’s… it’s fine. You went to the effort –”

“I’ll make something else,” Hannibal cut in smoothly.

Will opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again. “Thank you,” he said after a moment.

Hannibal nodded, opening the fridge the get out the eggs he had brought with him. Will wondered if he should feel vaguely insulted at the fact that Hannibal assumed he didn’t even have eggs in the fridge, but then remembered he actually didn’t so he decided it was fine.

“How do you feel this morning?” Hannibal asked, busying himself with cracking the eggs.

Will gave a wry chuckle. “Not as hungover as I thought I’d be. Probably due to the nap I took last night.”

Hannibal hmm’d. “Most likely. I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m sorry for that, by the way. It was really shitty of me,” Will then said, embarrassment creeping in as details flooded back.

“There’s no need to apologise. Although I must admit I wish you had sought me out instead of turning to alcohol, I do understand.”

Will nodded, frowning, then wordlessly went to open the door to let the dogs out. He stood by the door for a while, enjoying the biting cold on his skin. It had snowed overnight. He looked around, considering how beautiful everything looked – pure, unblemished. For a strange moment, he thought about just running out onto the field, bare feet and all. At surrounding himself with the sparkling white powder. He wondered if it would make him feel pure.

_Flattering._

He was pretty sure that after those thoughts, he would never feel pure again. If he ever had. He felt disgusted at himself. He felt disgusted at the fact that yesterday, when he had really thought about what it meant that the Chesapeake Ripper had warned the Tooth Fairy, really thought about it – he had felt a light fluttering in his stomach and a small smile had stolen over him. It was gone in a split second of course, repulsion taking over – but he couldn’t deny they had been there. He blew out a long breath, looking at the cloud of white that floated up into the air and dissolved, and wondered, not for the first time, what the fuck was wrong with him.

He heard Hannibal walking up to him and for a moment he felt like he couldn’t even look him in the eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder and closed his eyes, swaying slightly.

“Will?” Hannibal said softly.

Will struggled to find words, his hands clenching and unclenching.

“It’s cold. Come inside?”

Will nodded and followed Hannibal back inside, the latter’s hand still on his shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” Hannibal then asked gently, handing him a cup of coffee.

Will took a breath, wondering if he was going to lie. “Just… yesterday’s events hit me hard.” Which was true. Not the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie.

Hannibal nodded. “Of course they did. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling, Will.”

Will sighed and was thinking of a suitable reply when his phone rang in his pocket. He took it out, then put it back, stubbornly ignoring the ringing.

“Unwanted caller?” Hannibal asked, eyebrows raised.

Will sighed again. “It’s Alana.” She, along with Beverly, had left him multiple texts asking if he was okay (Alana) and telling him that if he didn’t answer his fucking phone she would physically come to his house and not leave until he talked (Beverly).

“She’s worried about you.”

Will nodded. “I just can’t deal with that right now. I need some time to… collect myself. I can’t deal with talking to people at the moment.”

Hannibal walked up to him. He gently brushed his knuckles over Will’s cheek, before planting a kiss on his lips. Will blinked, surprised.

“I’m very happy to be the exception,” Hannibal then said, the corners of his mouth tugged up into the suggestion of a smile.

Will faltered. “Oh,” he said, before smiling as well. “Me too.”

They had breakfast in amicable silence, Will’s mood slightly lightened. Afterwards they both did the dishes, and Will felt himself feeling a little bit better with every passing moment. Fascinating that Hannibal, and only Hannibal, could do that.

“What would you like to do today?” Hannibal then asked, handing Will a plate to dry.

Will shrugged sheepishly. “I hadn’t really thought about it. We could go for a walk, maybe. It’s really beautiful outside.” He immediately felt stupid after saying that, but Hannibal nodded in agreement.

“It is. A walk sounds lovely.”

They shared a smile and finished the dishes.

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“Can I ask you something?”

They were walking through the snow, the cold reddening their cheeks and ears, the air completely silent except for the sound of their footsteps crunching through the snow. The sun was bright and blinding, the sky clear blue.

“You can ask me anything, dear Will.”

Will hesitated, wondering if he should be subtle. He decided not to be. “Did you know that the Ripper was eating his victims?”

Hannibal didn’t immediately reply, seeming to take the time to choose the right words. That was answer enough to Will.

“I considered it a possibility, yes,” he then said, voice betraying nothing.

Will frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure about it. And I wanted to see if you would come to the conclusion on your own,” Hannibal replied bluntly.

Will scoffed, suddenly annoyed. “Is there anything else you’re considering a possibility about the Ripper you could maybe share?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “No,” he said calmly.

“Right. Good to know, thanks,” Will snapped.

“Will, you would not have asked the question if you didn’t already know the answer. Yet you seem to be offended by it. Why is that?”

“I hoped it wasn’t true. If you had told me that’s what you were thinking, it would have saved everyone a lot of work and time.”

Will started to stalk off, irritation taking over, but was stopped by a hand shooting out to grasp his wrist. He turned back to glare at Hannibal who was regarding him curiously.

“I had considered it as a possibility, just as I had considered the Ripper taking trophies as a possibility. I had no way to be certain, and if I had been wrong, it could have greatly set back the investigation.”

“I have no way to be certain either, technically. It’s not like I found a plate of human meat with a note attached saying ‘this is what I do with the missing body parts, signed CR,’” Will snapped.

“But you are certain, aren’t you?” Hannibal then said softly, slowly pulling him closer by the wrist.

Will swallowed, having no way to deny this. “Yes,” he grumbled.

Hannibal smirked, still pulling him closer until they were inches away from each other. “Exactly.” He suddenly kissed Will’s nose and then continued walking.

Will stood there for a moment, watching him and wondering how the hell he had lost that one. Finally, he decided to swallow his frustration and he hurried after Hannibal, trying not to sulk. Hannibal flashed him one of his rare bright smiles, and held out his hand. Will took it begrudgingly, and Hannibal gave his hand a squeeze.

“Could you just… tell me, from now on? When you’re thinking something? I mean, other reasons aside, you know I value your opinion more than…” Will faltered for a moment. “More than others.”

“ _Mylimasis_ ,” Hannibal said, raising Will’s hand to his face so he could brush his lips across his knuckles, “From now on I shall tell you whatever theory, idea or anything similar pops into my mind.”

Will wondered if he was being gently mocked, but the warmth that spread through his hand and into his stomach from the kiss made him decide to let it drop. He shook his head at himself, slightly embarrassed. Hannibal sent him a questioning look, but Will didn’t respond to it, deciding that there were some things he could better keep to himself.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“God, please don’t let that be Beverly,” Will groaned.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, and Will mustered up the courage to answer the door. They were in the middle of eating lunch, cheeks still reddened by the cold from their walk. “She told me she would personally come by if I didn’t answer her texts.”

“Which you haven’t,” Hannibal stated.

“Well, I just sent her a text a minute ago, which would obviously be too late if she decided to drive over here.”

Will sighed before finally going to the door. He opened it and blinked a few times.

“Alana.”

Alana visibly breathed out a sigh of relief at seeing him. “Jesus, Will. I thought something had happened to you.”

Will rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Sorry. I got really drunk yesterday, and… wasn’t really up to answering the phone.”

“You could at least have let me know you were okay.” Alana paused. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… dealing. You shouldn’t have come all the way up here, Alana.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you had answered the phone,” she said sternly. Then she softened and gave him a small smile. “Are you going to let me in? I brought hot chocolate.”

Will froze, suddenly remembering the fact that Hannibal was sitting in his kitchen, obviously not just passing by, in the fucking weekend no less. He could hardly send Alana back the way she came, though. He grit his teeth, preparing himself for the worst.

“Yeah. Come on in.”

Alana’s smile widened, and she followed him inside. Will turned to close the door and he could hear her pause. He clenched his fists, waiting for the penny to drop.

“Oh! Dr. Lecter,” Alana said slowly.

Hannibal stood up. Will couldn’t see his facial expression since he still hadn’t mustered the courage to turn around and face the situation.

“I would think we’re on a first name basis by now, wouldn’t you? What a pleasant surprise, Alana,” Hannibal said warmly.

“You’re right. I wanted to come by and see that Will was doing all right, since he wasn’t answering his phone… I’m sorry, I didn’t expect you to be here as well.”

Will finally turned around, and Alana gave him a curious smile.

“We were just having lunch. Would you care to join?” Hannibal asked.

“No, thank you, I already ate. If I’m interrupting something, we could always arrange to meet up next week, Will,” Alana said, glancing from him to Hannibal.

“No, you came all this way, don’t be ridiculous. You weren’t interrupting anything, anyway. Please, sit down,” Will said, his voice slightly strained.

“Actually,” Alana said kindly, “I think I’ll go. I just wanted to check if you were okay, after all, and you are. Let’s have a drink next week?”

“Why don’t you and Margot come over for dinner next week?” Hannibal asked.

Alana smiled broadly. “We’d love to. Thank you, Hannibal.”

Hannibal smiled as well. “It’s my pleasure. I will send the invitations soon.”

“All right. Well, I’ll see you both next week, then,” Alana said. She put the thermos of hot chocolate on the table with a grin. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you,” Will said.

She strode over and gave him a hug, before giving them both a last amused look and leaving.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Will said the moment she’d left.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, resuming to eating his lunch. “I think that may be a slight overreaction.”

Will sighed, walking over to join Hannibal at the table again. “Well, that wasn’t the end of that. Wonder when the questions will come.”

“Is our relationship embarrassing, Will?” Hannibal asked, visibly amused.

“No, no, of course not. It’s not that, it’s just that –” he froze. “Um. Did you just say our relationship?”

“Well, yes. A relationship, the way that two or more people are connected. Just like you have a relationship with Alana, or how we have a relationship with Jack.”

“Oh. Oh, right.” Will deflated. “You meant relationship as in… that. Right, of course.”

“Of course, I have no issue with using the other meaning of relationship. Although the correct term would be ‘intimate relationship,’” Hannibal then said casually.

Will blinked. “Uh.”

Hannibal’s eyes had a devious gleam. “Very articulate, Will.”

Will cleared his throat. “I think… that’s what I want. I want us to…” he trailed off. ‘Make it official’ sounded so childish, but he didn’t know what else to say, so he said nothing, letting the silence speak for itself.

“You think, or you’re sure?” Hannibal asked calmly.

Will swallowed, his fingers tapping on the table, lunch long forgotten. “I’m sure.”

Hannibal flashed him a sudden smile. “Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

He stood up and pulled Will up, too, before kissing him deeply. Will moaned quietly despite himself when Hannibal’s tongue brushed his bottom lip, letting his mouth fall open slightly. Will’s hands went up to tangle in Hannibal’s hair. Hannibal kissed him possessively, one hand on Will’s waist, pulling him close, and the other on his neck.

Will gasped into his mouth when Hannibal suddenly bit his lip, hard, before finally pulling away. Will ran his tongue over his lip, feeling it swell already, as Hannibal’s eyes tracked the movement.

“You were being a dick about that just to make things more difficult for me, weren’t you?” Will then said breathlessly, heart beating in his throat.

Hannibal gave a sly smile. “Not the phrasing I would use, but in essence, yes.”

Will shook his head, running a hand through his hair. Hannibal’s eyes roamed over him hungrily, the fingers still on his neck twitching.

Will leaned in, his lips almost touching Hannibal’s.

“Continue like that,” he breathed, and he felt Hannibal’s hand tighten on his neck, “and I’ll make things very difficult for you, too.”

With that he suddenly pulled away, grabbing the thermos from the table and walking over to the kitchen cabinet to get a couple of mugs. He was smirking to himself, silently congratulating himself on finding the willpower to pull away, when he was suddenly pressed against the counter, Hannibal’s body flush against his. He almost dropped the mugs in result. Hannibal’s arms snaked around him, one arm wrapped tightly against his waist and the other reaching across his chest to rest against his throat.

Will gasped, his head falling back onto Hannibal’s shoulder when he felt the latter nip at his neck.

“You continue to surprise me, Will,” Hannibal whispered into his ear, before giving his neck a last bite and moving away.

Will leaned on the counter heavily, before turning his head to glare at Hannibal who was sitting at the table like nothing had happened. Hannibal raised his eyebrows innocently, and Will sighed, pouring the hot chocolate into the mugs and trying to ignore his aching hard-on.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo sorry again for the late-ish update but my life is literally a never ending hell of college and anxiety attacks because of college :))))) 
> 
> ANYWAY here's the chapter. also about the mylimasis thing, it's kinda funny because i originally wanted to pluck it from mischa's grave stone because it means beloved, but that said mylima and i ALMOST wrote it into the fic until i was paranoid enough to research it and apparently mylima is female. so thank you google translate <3
> 
> thank you as always for the feedback and please enjoy x

Chapter 12

“This is simply delicious, Hannibal. What kind of meat is it?”

Hannibal smiled at Alana, who took a sip of her wine. “Thank you. And it’s pork.”

Will spent his time curiously observing Margot, doing his best to appropriately engage in small talk. Margot Verger was beautiful and refined, with a certain air of elegance and power to her. Will could see that she was hardened, a powerful construction of careful coldness surrounding her, which softened considerably whenever she looked at or talked to Alana. He wondered what she had endured to make her this way. She was in no way unfriendly, but she stayed politely cool. Will blinked, realising Alana was telling Hannibal how they had met, and started paying proper attention.

“I am her brother’s psychiatrist. I visited the house regularly – still do – and Margot quickly caught my attention. Soon I was coming by the house not for her brother, but for her,” Alana said with a smile, and she caught Margot’s eye, who smiled back.

“Of course, she caught my attention the moment she walked into the stables instead of the main entrance of the house. Although I can’t say I minded in the least,” Margot said.

Will chuckled along with the others before allowing himself to sink back into the observant attitude, noting everyone’s body language and facial expressions. Not because he was trying to analyse them, but because he was curious.

He had no time to properly delve into this, however, because Margot’s next question snapped him out it and then some.

“And what about you two? How did you meet?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

Alana glanced at her before glancing at Will, who in turn glanced at Hannibal. The latter was looking as if he was having the best time, all raised eyebrows and badly hidden smirks. He looked at Will, expectantly amused, who glared at him, before finally relenting and turning to Margot to reply.

“I’m sorry,” she said before he could, “I just assumed…” she trailed off, seeming to fight her own smirk.

Hannibal gave her a warm smile, and Will wished the ground would open underneath his feet and swallow him up.

“I consult Will with cases,” Hannibal said simply, obviously letting the others decide what they wanted on the unspoken.

Margot raised an eyebrow and gave them an amused look. “You consult a consultant? That’s interesting.”

“He’s not really consulting me, we’re working on cases together. So we’re both consulting the FBI,” Will said quickly, fingers tapping lightly on his knee.

“Ah, I see. I suppose, nowadays, the FBI can use all the help it can get,” Margot said, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s a busy time, is it not?”

“Maybe let’s not talk about that right now,” Alana said gently, her eyes flicking oh so subtly towards Will.

Margot raised her hands in apology. “Of course. I didn’t mean to distress.”

“Unfortunately, you are right. We are being kept very busy indeed,” Hannibal said calmly.

Will glanced up sharply, wondering if this was meant to be suggestive. Probably not. He was just being paranoid.

“In fact, Will is so dedicated that he often insists on us working together until late at night. Isn’t that right, Will?” Hannibal continued innocently.

Okay. Never fucking mind.

“Yep,” Will grunted, not missing Margot’s smirk.

“That must be… exhausting,” Alana said carefully.

“It can be,” Hannibal said solemnly.

“Alana, how’s your dog?” Will asked quickly, partly to stop Hannibal from saying anything else and partly because he genuinely wanted to know.

The conversation steered away from… how much he and Hannibal worked together, and, thankfully, also from the two murderers being the reason they worked together so much. Instead, the evening turned into night pleasantly, with warm laughs and friendly, light conversation. Soon, Margot and Alana were leaving, and Alana took Will’s hands in hers and made him promise to contact her if he needed to talk.

A while later, Hannibal and Will were cleaning up in the kitchen.

“I like Margot,” Hannibal said conversationally.

Will looked up from the plate he was drying. “Yeah. I do, too.”

“She’s clever. A good match for Alana.”

Will hesitated. “You… used to be Alana’s mentor, right?”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. “Yes, I was.”

“Did you two ever date?” Will then asked bluntly.

Hannibal paused, the hint of a smirk on his lips. “No. Although there were rumours.”

“Okay,” Will said slowly. “Okay.”

“You and Alana did date, though, didn’t you?” Hannibal then asked, eyes flashing with amusement.

Will grimaced. “Um. If you could call it that. It was very short, and very disastrous.”

“Yet not so disastrous that the two of you couldn’t remain friends.”

“We… both agreed that we worked better as friends, yeah,” Will said awkwardly, regretting ever bringing this up.

Hannibal hmm’d, and they were quiet for a while.

“Will you be spending the night here?” Hannibal then asked.

Will nodded, avoiding his eyes and putting away another plate. He chewed his lip in silence for a while, thinking.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” he suddenly blurted out.

Hannibal looked at him, raising an eyebrow. When it was clear Will wouldn’t elaborate, he said: “What exactly are you talking about, dear Will?”

Will chewed his lip some more, abandoning the dishes to tap his fingers on the counter. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, feeling his cheeks redden. Hannibal waited patiently, his eyes never leaving Will.

“Uh… the amount of dishes,” Will finally said lamely.

Hannibal gave an low chuckle, draining the sink and drying his hands before nearing Will. “Now, _mylimasis,_ you don’t genuinely assume that I am to believe that was what you wanted to say.”

He turned Will around gently by the shoulder, pushing his back into the counter and putting both hands on either side of him so that Will was trapped. Will swallowed. This position made it even more difficult for him to broach the subject he had wanted to broach.

“Never mind. I forgot what I was going to say,” Will said stubbornly, trying desperately not to focus on Hannibal’s crotch brushing against his.

Hannibal tilted his head and traced a finger along Will’s face. “Will…”

Will sighed, finally accepting that there was no bullshitting his way out of this one. “Fine. All right.” He took a breath and briefly closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself.

“Doesn’t it bother you… that we’re… we don’t – we haven’t…” he trailed off defeatedly, eyes on Hannibal’s chest.

“Are you referring to the fact that nothing else has happened between us since that night in the hallway?” Hannibal then asked gently.

Will swallowed again, nodding.

“Why would you think I would be bothered by that?”

Will snorted despite himself. “Well, it’s obvious isn’t it? I mean, you can’t say that you… How could you not?”

Hannibal put a finger under Will’s chin and tilted his face upwards so that he was looking at him. “I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind…” he said quietly, and Will turned his face away from him, his heart sinking. Hannibal moved it back to face him. “But if this is what you need, I have no problem with it whatsoever. Being with you, being able to touch you –” he stroked a thumb across Will’s cheek – “being able to kiss you –” he lightly kissed Will on the lips – “being able to talk to you, to spend time with you – simply being with you is enough, and will always be enough, _mylimasis_.”

Will blinked a few times, stunned. “Oh,” he breathed.

“’Oh’ indeed,” Hannibal said teasingly, still stroking his thumb along Will’s face. “Does that clear up your doubts, Will?”

Will gulped, leaning into Hannibal’s touch. “Are… are you sure, because I understand if –”

“Will,” Hannibal cut in. “I am perfectly happy to wait for as long as you need. Even if it is a very long time.”

Will stared at him, and was forced to face the realisation that he was falling in love with Hannibal. Fast.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and Hannibal smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

Will tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and softly gasped into his mouth when Hannibal slowly ran his hands along Will’s chest. Will put his hands on Hannibal’s, stilling them, before slowly moving them downwards.

He felt more than heard the quiet intake of breath from Hannibal as Will led his hands down towards his belt, his fingers trembling slightly. Hannibal broke the kiss, leaning his forehead on Will’s.

“Are you certain?” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to the corner of Will’s mouth.

Will swallowed harshly and nodded.

“If you need me to stop…”

“I’ll tell you,” Will finished, his own voice a whisper as well.

Hannibal looked him up and down before nodding and kissing him again. Will could do nothing but tremble as Hannibal’s hands slowly unbuckled his belt. Will knew Hannibal was being so slow to give him plenty of time to change his mind, and although it was unnecessary, he appreciated it. He gasped quietly into Hannibal’s mouth when the latter slipped his hand into Will’s trousers, palm caressing the growing bulge in his underwear.

Hannibal lingered there for a moment, breaking the kiss to brush his lips along Will’s cheek, his jaw, his neck. His hand finally crept into Will’s underwear and the latter let his head fall back before breathing a laugh.

“You’re okay with doing this in the kitchen?” he asked, voice trembling.

He felt Hannibal smile against his neck. “With anyone else, certainly not. But with you…” He squeezed Will’s cock, resulting in a gasp from the latter. “I’ll gladly make an exception.”

Hannibal ran his thumb along the tip, smearing pre-cum around and holding Will by his waist with his other hand. Will realised that he was pretty much holding him up, but couldn’t bring himself to care. His hands clutched at Hannibal’s back when the latter moved his hand up and down his dick, applying pressure at the right moments and on the right places. Will’s mouth sought Hannibal’s and he caught their lips in a sloppy kiss, his own mouth opening to let Hannibal’s tongue in. Will’s hands went to Hannibal’s neck, into his hair, clutching at any part of him he could. Hannibal’s hand started to pick up the pace and Will moaned quietly into his mouth, his nails digging into the back of Hannibal’s neck. If the latter minded, he didn’t give any indication.

Will was almost overwhelmed, not only because of the fact that this was the first time in a very long time anyone had done this for him, but because it was Hannibal doing it for him. _It was Hannibal_. Will couldn’t remember ever feeling so aroused, or ever feeling this good by someone else’s hand. He almost felt drunk, Hannibal’s touch dizzying and leaving him breathless.

He was vaguely aware of Hannibal’s bulge against his thigh, and he started moving his hand towards it until Hannibal grabbed his wrist and pinned it behind him.

“Let me,” he growled, and Will’s hand went limp, giving up any struggle. Hannibal still didn’t release it. This turned Will on more than he cared to admit.

As Will came closer and closer to release, his movements became more sloppy, and he found himself unable to return Hannibal’s kiss because of the gasps and moans that were escaping his throat. Hannibal didn’t seem to mind, instead licking into his open mouth.

“God, oh fuck,” Will moaned. “Don’t stop, don’t –” He grabbed a fistful of Hannibal’s hair, pulling him roughly closer to kiss him again. Hannibal nipped at his bottom lip, resulting in a hiss from Will.

“Fuck, Hannibal, I’m going to –” Will’s knees buckled and Hannibal released his wrist to hold him up, stroking Will through his orgasm. He tucked Will’s head onto his shoulder, supporting his weight and whispering unintelligible things into his ear.

Will shuddered and moaned, unable to even swear as he came over Hannibal’s hand and onto his own shirt.

Finally, he let out a long, shuddering breath, tucking his chin into the dip between Hannibal’s neck and shoulder. Hannibal pressed a kiss on the side of his head, and Will pulled away to kiss him lazily. After a moment, Hannibal gently retracted himself and washed his hands. Will gave a breathy laugh and Hannibal smiled at him before grabbing a damp cloth and wiping down Will’s shirt.

“Funny how we never seem to make it to the bedroom,” Will then said, running his hands through his hair after zipping himself up.

“Yes,” Hannibal agreed. “We should work on that.”

Will smiled to himself, taking Hannibal’s hand and stroking it. “Speaking of which, let’s go to bed?”

Hannibal nodded, giving Will’s hand a squeeze and leading them to the bedroom.

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Will sat in Jack’s office a few days later, wondering whether or not he was in trouble and considering all his actions in the past couple of weeks to try and fish out anything stupid. As far as he could tell, he hadn’t done anything since the Freddie Lounds incident.

Jack sat before him, his elbows on the desk and fingers laced in each other in front of his face, looking at him solemnly.

“Will,” he said. “I want you to start carrying a gun.”

Will blinked. Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly hadn’t been this. “Sorry, what?”

“You heard me. Considering the past few events, I feel you would be a lot safer with a gun. A serial killer broke into your goddamn house, Will.”

Will swallowed before shaking his head vigorously. “Jack, you know I haven’t carried a gun since –”

“Since Garett Jacob Hobbs, I know. And I never liked it, since you have been in dangerous positions quite a few times since then. But things have changed. I would feel almost irresponsible if I didn’t make you carry one.”

Will crossed his arms. “I don’t want to carry a fucking gun, Jack. I’m fine.”

Jack gave a bitter laugh. “No, you’re not. And you know it. I’m going to give you a gun, whether you like it or not. And I better see it on you at all times.”

Will left Jack’s office, furious, and with a gun now burning in the new holster on his waist.

“Woah, looks like someone got out of bed on the wrong –” Zeller began with a smirk, before Will cut him off with a “Shut the fuck up.”

Zeller watched Will storm off, exchanging a bewildered glance with Price, before Beverly tutted and went after him.

“Hey!” she called. Will kept walking. “Hey, dickhead. I know you can hear me.”

She finally caught up with him and grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him round to face her. “What the fuck is up with you?” she asked, frowning.

Will was about to pull away before he stopped himself, sighing and running his hands through his hair. “Jack’s making me carry a gun,” he muttered, lifting his shirt slightly for her to see.

Beverly softened, releasing her grip on his shoulder. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

Beverly crossed her arms, her lips pursed as she thought. “Well, I can’t say I disagree with the thought behind it,” she then said. “All things considered. But I do understand that it’s super fucking shitty for you.”

Will barked a laugh, shaking his head. “And even that would be an understatement.”

“Hey, cheer up.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “We can go to the gun range together, work on your aim. I’m sure you need the practice.”

He nodded, feeling slightly better at the thought of spending that time with Beverly. They were quiet for a moment.

“I should probably apologise to Zeller, shouldn’t I,” Will then grumbled.

Beverly laughed. “Look, dude, we’ve all heard a lot worse from you. But if you’re thinking about your karma, then it would be a good idea.”

Will snorted. “Karma. Bullshit.”

“Then I guess there’s no reason to,” Beverly grinned.

“Speaking of Zeller, any news?” Will then asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Yeah, we’ve been on a couple of dates. He’s actually nice to be around when Price isn’t there.”

Will smiled. “I can imagine. Or rather, I can’t imagine either of them being that annoying all the time.”

Beverly chuckled. “Yeah. I’m afraid Price is starting to catch on, though. Loads of suggestive comments. I’ve made Brian swear his silence, at least for the time being.”

“Well, Price makes a lot of suggestive comments anyway.”

“Yeah, but they’re getting like, really specific. It’s worrying.”

“What’s worrying?” came Price’s voice. The two of them had slowly and carefully followed Beverly, obviously making sure it was safe for them to join.

“Nothing,” Will said. “Zeller, sorry about that. Jack pissed me off.”

Zeller grinned. “It’s all good. Jack has a tendency to do that.” He sobered up. “Are you okay, though?”

Will gave him a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Do you need us to have a firm, stern but well-meant talk with Jack?” Price asked. “I’ve been yearning for the day I can reprimand him. Respectfully, of course.”

Beverly snorted. “You’ll be waiting for that day for a long time, dude. As if either of you would have the balls, anyway.”

“I do have balls,” Zeller announced, “and I prefer them intact, which is something you wouldn’t be able to count on if you decided to reprimand Jack for something.”

“So this has been a great conversation,” Will said, “but I’m going to go ahead and leave now.”

“What? But the conversation just got interesting! I’m sure Katz, for one, would love to hear more about Zeller’s balls,” Price said cheerfully.

“Yeah, that’s it, I’m out too,” Beverly said. She looked at Will. “Coffee?”

“Yup.”

They left the two standing there, with Zeller glaring at Price and Price asking innocently what he’d done wrong.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my lovelies, it's 3:30 am where i am right now and i refused to go to bed before finishing this. anyway i'm kind of drunk but i still managed to reach my page mark, so yay :) thank you, as always for the lovely comments and kudo's and whatnot. i love y'all & hope you enjoy

Chapter 13

Will supposed he’d been waiting for this. They all had. The people around him turned into blurs as he stood still in the room, looking down at the Jacobi family, who had been murdered identically to the Leeds family. Mrs. Jacobi’s eyes were missing.

Time seemed to pass inexplicably slowly and yet fast at the same time, and he suddenly found himself outside with Jack, standing up to their ankles in snow. He briefly panicked about losing time, thinking back to the year before when it had all gone wrong – until he realised he could actually remember what had led up to this moment.

Jack looked at him and gave him a grim nod before walking to his car. Will did the same, still in a weird, fuzzy state of mind. He felt the sudden need to speak to Hannibal. He sat in his car, dimly watching the agents work outside the house, and made the decision to make the call.

“Hello, Will,” came Hannibal’s voice.

Will took a shaky breath, blowing it out slowly.

“…Will?”

“Yes. Hello. I’m here.”

“Is everything all right?”

Will pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. There… there’s been another murder. By the Tooth Fairy.”

There was a moment of silence. “Ah,” Hannibal then said. “I assume you are at the crime scene now?”

Will looked out of the window and frowned. “Yeah. I’m about to leave, though.”

“Are you going to Quantico?”

Will hesitated. “That’s the plan.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

The call ended, and Will leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, once again unspeakably happy about Hannibal’s existence.

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Will had the odd feeling of being conscious, yet unconscious at the same time. Jack’s voice echoed in his head as he and the team discussed the mutilation of the victims, the identical wounds and bitemarks, the murder taking place almost exactly a month later. He had the sensation of floating above everyone, looking down at them standing around – him included, wisps of conversation reverberating through the air. Then he felt a hand on the small of his back and he was jolted back down, turning his head to see Hannibal regarding him with a mildly concerned look.

Hannibal said something to Jack, and Will couldn’t process the words but heard the sound of his voice, muffled, as if he was under water. The next thing he knew, he was being guided outside, Hannibal’s hand gentle yet his push firm on his back and he mechanically let himself be led. The biting cold stung his cheeks, and he blinked slowly at Hannibal’s mouth, which was moving.

“Will,” he then heard, more clearly, and Hannibal’s hands were on the side of his face, his forehead, his neck.

Will blinked again, then nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Focus on my hands, Will,” Hannibal was saying. “Focus on my hands on your face. Focus on the ground underneath your feet, the cold air. Do you feel it?”

Will stared at him, trying to force himself to do so. He closed his eyes and nodded, shivering slightly.

“Tell me what you feel. Describe it to me.” Hannibal’s voice still sounded off, faded somehow.

“I feel…” Will swallowed, frowning in concentration. “I feel your hands. They’re warm. I feel the snow crunching underneath my shoes.”

“Good. What else?”

“The cold wind. The… the sharpness of it on my face. Your hands are getting colder.”

“Very good. Will you open your eyes?”

Will did so, slowly, and he looked at Hannibal, realising the past few sentences had sounded clearer and clearer. He shook his head, and Hannibal let his hands drop. Will ran a hand through his hair.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“You were disassociating, Will.” Hannibal’s dark eyes bored into his, concern evident.

Will sighed. “Yeah. That… that happens sometimes.”

Hannibal gave an unhappy “Hmm.”

“Was I really weird in there?” Will asked, fearing the answer.

Hannibal shook his head. “No, just quiet. Which you often are, so I doubt it was noticed.”

Will nodded, relieved.

“I think it would be best to go home, _mylimasis_.”

Will shook his head. “No, no. There’s something I need to do first.”

“What would that be?”

Will grit his teeth. “I need to go back to the house.”

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Hannibal had not been happy about it, but there had obviously been no arguing with him. Will considered this wryly as he walked through the woods surrounding the house, dubious whether he would find what he was looking for. He felt so worn out, so exhausted by everything – he wondered where he would be without Hannibal to ground him.

A thought struck him then, a nasty, insidious thought. _He’s fostering codependency._ He blinked at himself, shaking his head. Of course he wasn’t. Will had experienced all this before, and worse, and he’d always felt painfully lonely when people didn’t understand what was happening, or why, or how to deal with it. And it always ended up with him having to deal with it completely alone, which often only exacerbated the feeling of being so incredibly… different from everyone he knew. Hannibal, on the other hand… Hannibal understood. Hannibal wasn’t afraid of him, or for him. Hannibal extended a hand for him to cling to and pull him out of the darkness threatening to swallow him.

Was that codependency?

He paused, noticing something that pulled him out of his train of thought. From where he was standing, he could see right inside the house. Perfectly, even. He put his hand on the tree beside him, crouching down. Right into the living room, the yard – everything. He stood back up, his hand brushing against something on the tree. He looked at it and frowned. It was some sort of symbol, a rectangle with a vertical line through the middle.

_I sat there, and watched them…_

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“It was done very carefully and cleanly, with a sharp knife. Not the work of a child,” Will said thoughtfully, showing Hannibal the picture he took of the carving.

Hannibal tilted his head, considering the carving. “It’s a Chinese character meaning ‘you hit it’, an expression sometimes used in gambling,” he said.

“A lucky sign,” said Will. He was quiet for a moment. “The character also appears on a mahjong piece. Marks the Red Dragon.”

“And behold a Great Red Dragon…” Hannibal said quietly.

Will glanced at him, frowning. Hannibal looked at him for a moment, appearing to be in thought.

“Are you familiar with William Blake’s _The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun_?” he then asked.

Will shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning back against Hannibal’s desk.

“Blake’s Dragon stands over a pleading woman caught in the coil of its tail. Few images in Western art radiate such a unique and nightmarish charge of demonic sexuality.”

“The man who killed the Jacobis and the Leedses saw something in them that drew him and drove him to do it. He chose them because something in them spoke to him,” Will said, still frowning.

“They were better than anything he knew,” Hannibal mused. “What do they have in common, Will?”

Will was quiet, his fingers tapping on the desk. “They were happy,” he then said softly.

Hannibal’s expression flickered, so quickly that Will barely caught it. He didn’t know what it had meant, and decided not to ask, in case it had been his imagination.

“The Great Red Dragon,” Will then muttered. “I understand why he wouldn’t be happy with ‘the Tooth Fairy.’”

“It does have a better ring to it, doesn’t it?” Hannibal said wryly.

Will sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I should go home. I’m sorry I’ve kept you so long.”

“Don’t fret, dear Will. Are you sure you don’t want company tonight?”

Will gave a half smile. “I would, but you’d have to come to my place. I’ve been gone from the dogs since this morning.”

Hannibal smiled, taking Will’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “Then I’ll come with you.”

Some time later, they were in front of Will’s house getting out of the car, both hunched up from the cold and desperate to get inside. Will quickly led the way, fumbling with his keys while the dogs barked from inside. He reached the door and stopped so suddenly that Hannibal walked into him, the latter giving him a confused look before his gaze fell on what Will was staring at.

There was a package sitting in front of his door, unmarked.

They were both quiet for a moment. Will could feel himself starting to tremble, and it wasn’t from the cold. He looked at Hannibal, and the latter’s expression was cool as he regarded the package. He took one look at Will before taking the keys from his hands, opening the door and finally picking up the package.

Will followed him inside numbly, closing the door behind him. Hannibal set the package on the table before removing his coat and scarf, but leaving his gloves, Will following his actions mechanically. Finally, they both sat down at the table and Hannibal picked up the package again, his mouth a thin, hard line. He tore it open and looked inside, his face hardening as anger flashed in his eyes.

Will blinked, realising this was the first time he had seen Hannibal this angry. He didn’t have to ask what was in the package, then.

“What’s in it?” he asked anyway, his voice shaking slightly despite himself.

Hannibal looked up from the package. “A box,” he said, his voice remarkably calm.

Will nodded, closing his eyes and running his hands through his hair. “Is there a note?”

Hannibal reached inside the package carefully, and pulled out a note between thumb and forefinger. He put it on the table for them both to read. It was considerably longer than the last one.

_You refuse to see. Your friend sends threats. You will both come to regret your mistakes._

_I gave you a rare opportunity, Will Graham. I gave you the opportunity to understand._

_But you will understand. Both you and your friend. You will both behold._

_Behold my becoming._

_Behold THE GREAT RED DRAGON_

The last few words were bold and big, evidently been written into the note over and over until the paper had begun to tear.

They were both quiet for a while, and then Will suddenly reached over to the package and pulled the box out, hesitating for a moment before opening it.

Sitting in it were a pair of eyes, mirror shards stuck into them. Will swallowed.

“That’s what the Chesapeake Ripper did to the victim when he threatened him,” he said quietly.

Hannibal’s eyes hardened, and he took the box back from Will, snapping it shut and putting it back in the package along with the note.

“He seems to think you and the Ripper are friends,” Hannibal then said, moving the package aside and pulling his gloves off.

The tapping in Will’s mind was back. He ignored it.

“It’s not surprising. The Ripper did threaten him on my behalf,” Will murmured, clenching his fists.

Hannibal nodded, his eyes still hard. Will stood.

“I’ll call Jack then, shall I?” he said bitterly.

Hannibal stood as well, putting a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Why not wait until morning?”

Will frowned at him.

“The Jacobis have been found dead already, after all,” Hannibal continued. “We know who the eyes belonged to this time.”

Will bit his lip. He really didn’t feel like spending an entire night working again, to tell the truth. Hannibal was right, the victims had already been found this time.

“Why?” he asked, frowning.

Hannibal gently ran his hand through Will’s hair. “To be quite frank, Will, I’m not sure either of us is up to dealing with Jack at the moment. You have been working all day, you should be allowed some rest at night.”

Will considered this, before shaking his head.

“That’s no good. We can’t lie about when we found it, and Jack would kill me if he found out I didn’t immediately call him.”

He reached for his phone.

“In that case, I’ll make sure he takes the package and leaves. It wasn’t found inside the house this time, after all.”

Will nodded in agreement, already having dialed the number.

A great while later, after Jack and the team had come and stayed and gone again, Will and Hannibal were lying in bed, the room pitch black and the only sound being their quiet breaths.

“It’s not fair,” Will whispered into the darkness, feeling pathetically childish as he did so.

“What isn’t fair, _mylimasis_?” Hannibal murmured, his lips brushing against Will’s hair.

“All of this. Everything that’s happening. It shouldn’t be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

Will bit his lip, feeling Hannibal take his hand. “Our relationship is constantly suffering because of what I do,” he then said quietly.

“ _You_ are constantly suffering because of what you do,” Hannibal replied gently.

“Yeah, but that’s not the point right now. The point is that we…” Will faltered, not sure if he should say what he wanted to say.

Hannibal gently squeezed his hand in encouragement.

“We could be so much happier together than we are now,” Will then breathed.

“My dear Will,” Hannibal said softly. “The things that make me unhappy are things that are beyond your control. I am not unhappy with our relationship. I am happy with you. Are you not happy with me?”

“Of course I am. I’m happier than I’ve been in…” Will paused. “Ever.”

“Well, then. I would say that that is the most important thing, wouldn’t you?”

Will nodded slowly.

“I do agree with you somewhat, though. It should not be like this. And soon, it won’t. All of this will be over.”

“You’re that confident we’ll catch him?” Will asked.

Hannibal was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, it seemed that he was choosing his words very carefully. “I am confident that he will be stopped. One way or another.”

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Will swallowed, becoming more and more frustrated with himself.

“Hannibal…” he said slowly. “My dreams… they’ve been getting darker.”

Hannibal stilled. Will wished he could see his expression. “Have you been writing them down?”

Will sighed quietly. “Some of them.”

“Not all of them?”

“…No.”

“Why is that?”

“I… I was afraid. To write them down. I was afraid what you might think.”

Hannibal was quiet for a moment. “Tell me,” he then whispered.

Will took a breath. “I’ve been dreaming of… blood. Not the usual. Blood on my hands. Not mine. And when I look up I see the source of it – a dark figure on the ground, dead. Mutilated. I murdered him. And when I see this, I feel…” his breath hitched, and he cleared his throat, forcing himself to continue. “I feel powerful. Good. Euphoric, even. And then I feel a hand on my shoulder and… and I turn, and it’s the demon. And it’s smiling at me, and its teeth are covered in blood – and… and I smile back, and I can taste blood on my teeth also. And then I wake up.”

Hannibal was quiet for a long time. Will feared that he had shocked him into silence, or hoped that he had fallen asleep.

“Hannibal?” he whispered anxiously, and he felt him squeeze his hand slowly.

“There is nothing to be afraid of, Will,” Hannibal then breathed.

Will had the feeling that Hannibal’s voice was very controlled, as if he was keeping something back.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

“It is only a dream,” Hannibal continued, his voice still barely audible. “ _Mylimasis_. My Will. Only a dream…”

He fell silent again, and Will blinked into the darkness, confused.

“Your mind is a beautiful thing,” Hannibal then said suddenly, his voice low. “Not to fear, but to admire. To be in awe of.” He brushed his lips to Will’s temple. “To love.”

Will stilled. The confusion from the cryptic words were momentarily forgotten, as the last words echoed in his mind. _To love._

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Will followed the tour guide towards the elevator bank. The Brooklyn Museum was quiet today, which Will was thankful for.

“You know, you’re the second person who’s asked to see the Blake today,” the tour guide remarked cheerfully.

Will paused, anxiety immediately settling and gnawing in his gut. They stepped inside the elevator and Will tried to retaliate the polite conversation the tour guide was trying to make, while simultaneously clenching and unclenching his fists in his pockets. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out. Will followed the tour guide down the aisle, past racks of paintings stored there.

“Wait here,” he said to Will. “Paula?” he then called as he walked away. “Paula, I have another visitor for the Great Red Dragon.”

The ‘ding’ of the elevator doors behind him caught Will’s attention, and he turned to see the elevator doors open. He frowned slightly, curious, and he approached the doors. As he got closer, he could see a foot peeking out from just inside the doors.

“Paula?” he heard the tour guide call. His voice was concerned, and Will’s shackles were raised now as he turned towards the noise.

He glanced back as the doors were sliding closed and saw a man inside. Will froze. He stared at the tall man, time seeming to slow down as he took in the cleft palate and averted eyes, which were only now glancing up at him and making eye contact.

Without thinking, he ran towards the elevator, managing to stop the doors from closing. As they opened again he ran inside and before he could register what was happening, he was being grabbed by the collar and slammed against the ceiling of the elevator, then slammed on the floor with startling force. Then he was quite literally thrown out of the elevator, and he slid to a stop outside it. He looked up, bloodied and bruised and dazed, to see the man staring at him dispassionately as the elevator doors closed again.

Will tried to get to his feet to stop it, but he slipped, his head thumping mercilessly. He quickly found his footing, and sprinted towards the stairwell, vaguely aware of an alarm going off. He was practically flying down the stairs, ignoring the fact that his entire body hurt like hell as he focused on getting down the stairs.

Finally, he reached the stairwell door, bursting out of it and running into the main hall. He searched desperately for any sign of the man. But the Great Red Dragon was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! thank you as always for the kind feedback <3 sorry this one is a bit late (as usual) but i have been insanely busy, exams are coming up. speaking of, the chapter after this one might be a bit late and/or short since i'm trying to balance out school and other shit and this and i have a very busy time coming up. ANYWAY i hope you enjoy!!!

Chapter 14

A long while and a lot of questions later, Will found himself on Hannibal’s doorstep. The latter opened the door, blinked at Will, and stepped aside to let him in. Will strode down the hallway and right into Hannibal’s office, where he immediately started pacing around. Hannibal followed him to the office wordlessly, sitting down in his chair.

“I met him. I fucking met him,” Will exclaimed, still pacing.

“Who did you meet?” Hannibal asked calmly, although Will knew that he knew.

“The Red Dragon. He was at the Brooklyn Museum,” Will said, running his hands through his hair.

“He did this to you,” Hannibal then said coldly.

Will paused his pacing, realising he hadn’t yet seen what he looked like. He imagined it wasn’t a pretty sight. He glanced at Hannibal and nodded, before resuming his pacing.

“I’m fine,” he said absent-mindedly. “Jack called an ambulance and they did all their tests. They said I was fine.”

“I assume they told you to check into the hospital anyway, to be certain?” Hannibal asked, one eyebrow raised.

“They did,” Will said, somewhat sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you?” Hannibal asked.

Will shook his head, annoyed. “It’s not important. Like I said, I’m fine. I just met the Red Dragon. He ate a fucking painting, Hannibal. _The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun._ He ate it.”

Hannibal’s mouth curled. “Then I imagine he has made a lot of enemies today.”

“We were right. He does believe he is deformed. He has a cleft palate,” Will continued, hardly listening.

Hannibal nodded, as if his suspicions were confirmed. “Did he speak?”

Will shook his head. “No. He recognised me, though.”

Hannibal blinked coolly. “Evidently.”

Will continued with his pacing until Hannibal finally stood up and walked towards him. He took hold of Will’s hands, which were running through his hair.

“Will,” he said gently.

Will paused, making eye-contact with Hannibal for the first time since he’d arrived.

“Breathe,” Hannibal said.

Will took a deep breath, feeling Hannibal’s thumbs stroke circles onto his palms. “I’m okay,” Will said honestly. “I’m not panicking.”

“I know that, but you seem to be anxious nonetheless.”

Will pulled away from Hannibal’s grasp to take a step back, turn and run his hands through his hair again. “I’m not anxious. I’m… antsy. I can identify him. I know what he looks like.”

“He laid hands on you,” Hannibal said coldly, and it was enough to make Will turn back to face him.

“I’m okay,” Will said, frowning.

“That is not the point.”

Will hesitated. “I guess not. Look at it this way. Now we’re a lot closer to catching him.”

Hannibal was silent for a while, looking him up and down. “Come here,” he then said quietly.

Will obeyed, nearing him again. Hannibal put one hand on the side of his face and the other on his lower back, pulling him towards him firmly before kissing him. Will faltered, surprised, but quickly returned the kiss. Hannibal pulled away after a few moments, pressing his lips together.

“Please go take a shower,” he then said, releasing Will.

The latter barked a laugh of surprise, too caught off guard to even be offended. “I’m sorry, do I smell?”

“You smell like him.”

Will blinked. “What?”

“You smell like him,” Hannibal repeated simply.

Will squinted at him, having forgotten exactly how keen Hannibal’s sense of smell was. To be honest, he was obliged to actually take that shower because the thought of him smelling like the Dragon made him extremely uncomfortable.

Still, he felt somewhat indignant.

“That’s what you’re focusing on? The fact that I smell like him right now? Hannibal, I –”

“I know, Will. But it is difficult for me to concentrate on what you’re saying when his scent is all over you,” Hannibal said calmly, walking back to his chair and sitting down.

Will exhaled in frustration. A shower actually did sound good right now, but the fact that Hannibal was insisting on it so much made him not want to do it. He knew it was immature of him, but it irked him that Hannibal was more focused on that than wanting to listen to what Will had to say.

All right, if he was being very honest with himself, it kind of hurt.

He shook his head, trying to speak reasonably. “Hannibal, I’ll take a shower. But can you please just listen to me first? I just spent two hours talking to the FBI, and I just – I just need to hear your thoughts. I want to talk with you about this.”

Hannibal’s face softened, and he pursed his lips, seemingly in thought. “Of course, dear Will. Tell me.”

Will relaxed slightly, and walked over to sit opposite Hannibal. “Thank you. I went to the Brooklyn Museum to get a look at the painting and… get some insight on the Dragon. On how he sees himself. When I got there, the tour guide told me I was the second person to request to see it today. I saw him in the elevator, and I just… I ran towards him. That’s when he, uh… laid hands on me. I tried to catch him in the main hall, but he’d already gone.”

“So he recognised you. And then you found out he had eaten the painting?”

Will nodded. “He didn’t kill anyone. Knocked the docent out, she has a concussion, but no one else was hurt. Signed his name as John Crane.”

“Was he on camera?”

“Yes. Jack and the team are on that now. No doubt we’ll discover who he is.”

Hannibal nodded once. “Good.”

They were quiet for a moment, Will slowly calming down, Hannibal watching him.  

“How do you feel, Will?” Hannibal then asked quietly.

Will took a breath, his fingers tapping endlessly on his knees. “Like I said. Antsy. Restless.”

He abruptly stood, feeling suddenly agitated and frustrated. With himself, with Jack, with Hannibal. With everything. He crossed his arms and started pacing again.

“I need to go,” he then announced.

Hannibal looked at him, his eyebrows raised. “Home?”

Will nodded, gritting his teeth. “Yes. I… I need a drink, and I need to see my dogs, and I need my bed.”

“What caused this change of heart, Will? You came to my doorstep, and now you’re abruptly leaving. What happened?”

Will grunted in frustration. “Nothing happened. I just need… I need to breathe. I need to think.”

“Is my presence stopping you from doing those things?” Hannibal’s voice was as calm as ever, but Will could tell he had… struck a nerve. Maybe even hurt him.

“No, Hannibal, no. Not you specifically, just… things are a bit much right now. I don’t…. I don’t know how to handle it.”

As Will said the words, he realised how true they were. Beaten up by the Dragon, Hannibal smelling him on Will, the incessant fucking _tapping_ in his mind whenever he was with Hannibal… It had all reached a level in Will he didn’t know how to deal with. And he needed to get out. _He needed to get out_. He took a deep, shaky breath.

“I’m sorry. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And with that, he made his way out of the house as fast as he could, not letting himself glance back at Hannibal because he knew that that would be enough to convince him to stay. He drove to his own house in a daze, not letting himself linger on what he had just done. Hannibal hadn’t deserved it, and Will had no idea how to explain himself.

When he got home, he could only stay inside long enough to feed the dogs and grab a bottle of whiskey. Immediately after, he went back outside; into the cold, the dark and the snow. He walked around for a while, just walking around his house, gulping down whiskey from the bottle. Eventually he got fed up with that and sat down on his porch, digging his bare hands into the snow beside him.

He could feel himself losing his train of thought over and over, vaguely realising that he was starting to dissociate again. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He blinked, and suddenly the bottle of whiskey was empty and his hands were almost blue from the cold. He smiled sadly to himself, the inky world shimmering and rippling around him as he felt himself float slowly upwards until he was looking down at himself.

He reached a hand to the Will sitting on the porch, but nothing happened. He couldn’t reach himself, and watched himself slump down, lying down on the porch. He had the strange sensation of being split apart; one part of him on the porch, the other part floating in the air.

He looked up and saw the stars glittering and becoming blurry. It was quite beautiful. A small voice in his head said that this wasn’t okay, this wasn’t healthy, it was too cold, he was very drunk and needed to go to bed – but he didn’t care.

He heard a laugh, and realised it was coming from the Will lying on the porch. Somewhere, vaguely, he registered the sound of a car nearing. He didn’t pay attention to it. It was much more interesting to observe the stars, which were so much more mobile tonight than they normally were. Moving, almost dancing above him, none of them a sharp point, but more of a white blur. He closed his eyes, and still saw them underneath his eyelids.

There was a sudden, alarming sensation of a hand on his knee, and his eyes opened. He was still in the air, he noticed happily. Let Porch Will deal with what was happening down there. Sky Will was perfectly happy floating up here, looking at the stars and the trees bleeding into the sky, and the snowflakes flurrying down. He gave a quiet laugh at the thought of that, and the laugh echoed, bounced around his head.

“ _Will_ ,” he heard softly, fuzzily. As if something was in his ears. His heart still jumped at the sound, though, some instinctive reaction to the voice.

He looked down at Porch Will, and snorted. It didn’t look like he was doing very well. He was so happy to be floating up here, free from his earthly worries, free from the Dragon, free from the tapping, free from Jack, free from everything. He blinked, trying to figure out what was wrong with that picture. He concentrated on the figure standing over Porch Will, and it hit him.

Hannibal.

That was what was wrong with that picture. Hannibal wasn’t there, either.

“ _Will_ ,” he heard again, more forcefully this time. Still fuzzy and echoing. As if he was underwater.

Porch Will raised his eyes, looking up to the sky – and made direct eye-contact with Sky Will. They both blinked at each other, and then Sky Will felt himself be pulled down again – and he was lying on the porch, his head spinning and his eyes wet and Hannibal standing over him.

“Will,” Hannibal was saying softly. “My Will.”

He realised Hannibal had extended a hand towards him, and he took it, letting himself be pulled up. The world shook and spun around him, and he closed his eyes, trying to fight the lurching feeling.

“Your skin is blue,” he heard, the words floating around his mind. “Come inside. Let me warm you up. Let me take care of you.”

Will couldn’t do much but let himself be pulled up, and he leaned heavily on Hannibal, finally realising how much he was shaking. He couldn’t feel his fingertips or toes anymore. He let himself be led inside, and heard his dogs barking faintly, just as he heard Hannibal faintly. The next thing he knew he was lying in his bed, and his clothes were being removed. He closed his eyes, letting it happen, not really caring anymore.

Then he was being joined by another warm, naked body, feeling it wrap itself around him. He leaned into the touch, inhaling deeply, still shivering as the blankets were wrapped around them both.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he mumbled, his words feeling sticky in his mouth.

“Of course I should have, _mylimasis_ ,” he heard whispered into his ear. “How could I not.”

He felt hands rub his back, slowly but surely sending warmth into his blood.

“I didn’t take a shower,” he breathed, finding it hard to stay conscious at this point.

“I know. It’s all right,” came the quiet reply. “It’s all right, my love.”

Will hummed softly, feeling sleep pull him down. “You make me feel… whole. I…”

He never finished his sentence, the darkness finally taking over.

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Will woke up alone, and to a splitting headache. He groaned, rubbing his forehead. His mouth felt like something had crawled inside and died. After a few more minutes of feeling sorry for himself, he decided that the only way he was going to help himself was by getting out of bed and looking for some aspirin.

After pulling on a T-shirt and underwear, and with a lot of struggling, he finally stumbled into the kitchen, and paused. Hannibal was there, cooking breakfast. The latter turned and looked at him in silence for a few moments.

“Good morning, Will,” he then said.

“Morning,” Will muttered, immediately making his way to the sink to pop an aspirin.

“I imagine you are feeling a bit rough,” Hannibal then said, looking at the pan as he stirred.

Will swallowed harshly and hmm’d, not quite feeling up to sentences longer than one word.

“There’s coffee for you on the table.”

Will shot him a grateful look, rushing over. They were quiet for a while as Will practically gulped his coffee and Hannibal continued making breakfast. Then, “What happened last night, Will?”

Will paused. “I… I don’t know.”

“How much do you remember?”

Will took a breath, putting down his mug. “I remember what happened at the museum. I remember going to you, and us talking, and then I felt… bad. On edge. And I drove home and then… I was floating.” He sighed, looking at his hands. They had been blue last night. “Feeling cold. And then warm.”

“I am glad I decided to come. I don’t want to know the state you would have been in this morning if I hadn’t.” Hannibal’s voice was calm, but Will could feel the… frustration. The sadness.

He sighed again, and walked towards him, standing next to him at the stove. “I’m sorry. I… shouldn’t have done that. Any of it.”

Hannibal finally looked him in the eye, and sighed quietly. He reached a hand towards Will’s face, and Will leaned forward, letting Hannibal cup his face. He gave a quiet, bitter laugh.

“I need a day off.”

Hannibal lightly brushed his fingers over the bruise on his forehead. “I agree.”

“I mean it, though. I am sorry,” Will then said earnestly, closing his eyes.

“I forgive you, Will. Even though there’s nothing to forgive. And even when there is, I will always forgive you.”

Will opened his eyes again, and saw Hannibal staring at him, his eyes warm. Will tried to smile, although he was afraid it came out more like grimace.

“If it’s any consolation, whenever that happens… whenever I dissociate, I guess. I always think of you. I think of you and it grounds me again.”

Hannibal paused, his hand still on Will’s face. He didn’t reply, and Will was afraid he might have gone too far.

“I’m floating above everything, happy to be relieved from the stress and the anxiety and the fear,” he continued nervously, talking just to fill the silence. “And I realise there’s a reason I couldn’t be happy like this forever. It’s because you aren’t there with me.”

Hannibal stared at him, his eyes boring into Will’s. The latter felt rooted to the spot, Hannibal’s gentle hand holding him in place, his eyes keeping him glued to the floor beneath him. Hannibal opened his mouth to reply, when – Will’s phone rang.

They both blinked, and Will took his phone out to see who it was. He rolled his eyes despite himself. Of course it was Jack, who else. He gave Hannibal an apologetic look before answering the call.

“Will, I want you here. A woman just came in – saying she might have information on the Dragon. I want you here with me to interview her.”

Will blinked, not having expected this. “Wha… yes, of course. I’ll be right there.”

There was a pause. “Bring Hannibal with you,” Jack then said, before hanging up.

Will stared at his phone, going red and wondering whether that meant Jack knew what was going on between Hannibal and him, since he had automatically assumed Hannibal would be with him at this time in the morning. Not that it mattered, not really – but it was weird. He looked up at Hannibal, who was looking at him expectantly.

“A woman just came in, claiming she has information about the Dragon. Jack asked us both to come.”

Hannibal nodded. “We’ll go after breakfast.”

Will gave an impatient grunt. “We should go now.”

“I’m not letting you leave this house before you have eaten, Will,” Hannibal said calmly.

Will looked at him. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, it is. You have spent last night drinking and almost freezing to death. You need food,” Hannibal said firmly.

Will reluctantly complied, sitting down at the table as Hannibal scooped food onto their plates.

“Thank you,” he said begrudgingly.

Hannibal nodded, not remarking about how quickly Will was shoveling the food down his throat. As soon as he had finished, he practically sprinted to his room, pulling on clothes haphazardly in his haste to leave. Hannibal, already being dressed, waited patiently for him in the living room, and as Will finished brushing his teeth and getting dressed and made his way to the front door, Hannibal followed him wordlessly.

Will paused for a moment outside, remembering they would have to drive separately in their own cars. He turned to Hannibal, opening his mouth to say something, before changing his mind and kissing him instead. Hannibal returned the kiss, his hands going to Will’s hair.

Will pulled away. “Thank you. For being there last night. For being there always,” he said quietly.

Hannibal nodded slowly, his hands still in Will’s hair. “My compassion for you is inconvenient, Will,” he said softly.

Will tilted his head, confused by this statement. Hannibal offered no explanation, however. He just kissed Will again, gently, before pulling away and getting into his car, waiting for Will to do the same.

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“Gentlemen, meet Reba Mcclane,” Jack said, gesturing to the woman sitting in the chair at Jack’s desk.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late chapter, absolutely up to my ears in exams rn. enjoy x

Chapter 15

Reba Mcclane was blind. It was evident from the way her eyes were always searching for sources of noise, and the way she stared straight ahead of her, her eyes unfocused, when she was talking.

Jack went to get her a cup of coffee and she reached for it with a shaky smile, her hands trembling slightly as Jack carefully gave her the cup.

“Thank you for coming to us, Miss Mcclane. Dr. Lecter and Mr. Graham are consulting with the case. You said you thought you might have information on the Red Dragon,” Jack said kindly, sitting down at his desk. Hannibal and Will were sitting on either side of Reba.

The latter nodded hesitantly. “Well…” she began. “I don’t know. I’m just here in case… in case I do.”

Jack frowned, curious. “Can you elaborate on that, please?”

Reba swallowed a sip of her coffee, eyebrows furrowing as she thought. “I… I don’t…”

“Just start at the beginning,” Will said gently.

Reba nodded, pursing her teeth. “A few weeks ago, I met a man at work. He wanted some pictures developed. I helped him. His name is Francis Dolarhyde.”

Jack immediately wrote the name down, the scratching of his pen loud in the temporary silence.

“We… started spending time together after work, and eventually we started dating. He’s quiet, usually avoids contact with others. I think he’s shy.”

Hannibal and Will exchanged a glance.

“He has been good to me, though. Kind. I never felt any pity from him,” she continued.

“But something changed?” Jack asked.

Reba took a breath. “The first time…. was a while ago. I was at his house, and he suddenly got… distant. He stopped talking, wouldn’t respond to my questions. He then excused himself, saying he had to take care of something. That he would drive me home after.”

She paused, taking a sip of her coffee. Her hands were still shaking. “He went upstairs, and I waited for him. Then I heard him… talking. But it was a different voice. It was… as if he was an animal, to be honest. He was growling and making these strange sounds, it sounded like he was arguing with himself.”

Hannibal and Will exchanged another look, both knowing what the other was thinking. It was definitely strange, but it wasn’t enough to point to him being the Dragon.

“You said the first time,” Will said then. “It’s happened more since then?”

Reba nodded. “It’s happened a few times since then. Every time he would come back down, very tense, very on edge, in a hurry to get me home. Not letting me touch him. I know he doesn’t think I can hear him when that happens.”

“Did you… overhear him say something specifically?” Jack asked.

“Yes. I… I got curious, and decided to go to the bottom of the stairs to hear him more clearly. That’s when I heard… I heard him say something that led me to come to you.”

Jack leaned forward. “What did he say?”

“He… he said, in this guttural, growling voice, ‘you know you have to change her like you changed those families.’ And then he whined, and it sounded like he was sobbing. He kept saying, over and over, ‘I don’t want to, let her live, let her live.’ And it frightened me, of course, and then I remembered the families in the news, the families that had been murdered.”

They were silent for a moment. “What happened afterwards?” Jack asked quietly.

Reba scoffed shakily. “Nothing. I acted like I hadn’t heard anything, obviously, and prayed that he would take me home. Which he did.”

“Did he say anything?” Will asked.

Reba shook her head. “No. He drove me home in silence, and I tried to make conversation to make it seem like everything was normal on my end. Then he dropped me off and left straight away.”

Jack nodded thoughtfully. “Good. It was good to not let anything on.”

Hannibal cleared his throat, opening his mouth to speak for the first time. “Does he have any kind of physical disfigurement, Miss Mcclane? Something he might be very self-conscious about?”

Reba nodded immediately. “He has a cleft palate. He wouldn’t let me go anywhere near his face for ages in the beginning.”

Jack gave Hannibal and Will a solemn nod. “Do you have an address for us?”

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The address, it turned out, was irrelevant, since whatever house had been standing there had burnt to a crisp. There was no sign of Dolarhyde.

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Will ran his hands through his hair in frustration for the thousandth time since then.

“We’ll find him,” Hannibal said quietly, watching him pace from his usual seat in the study.

“Yeah, well, we almost did, and he slipped right through our fingers. Destroyed every single piece of possible evidence along with his house,” Will snapped.

He paused. “At least Reba’s okay,” he muttered, before resuming his pacing.

“Jack thinks he might have gone to look for the Chesapeake Ripper,” Hannibal then said, straightening a nonexistent crease in his trousers.

Will paused again, thinking. “Or me,” he then said quietly.

Hannibal looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Or both.”

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Will grunted, digging his nails into his palms.

“Hannibal, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said slowly.

Hannibal looked at him curiously, opening his mouth to reply, when – the phone in his office rang.

“Please, hold that thought,” Hannibal said with a quiet sigh, before picking up the phone.

“Hannibal Lecter,” he said.

Will watched him, saw the slightest flicker of expression when the voice on the other end answered.

“Yes,” Hannibal said calmly. He then paused ever so slightly. Will wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t known Hannibal so well. He quickly resumed his normal demeanor. “Yes, it is.”

Will sent him a questioning look.

“One moment, please,” Hannibal said to whomever was on the phone. Then, to Will, “Please, would  you mind giving me a moment? It’s a patient.”

“What can’t you discuss with a patient while I’m here?” Will asked, frowning.

Hannibal pursed his lips. “It is a… sensitive matter. Doctor patient confidentiality.”

Something wasn’t right. Something about Hannibal’s tone, his eagerness to get him to leave.

“All right. I’ll go home, then,” Will said slowly.

Hannibal nodded dismissively. “I will call you tomorrow.”

Wil frowned at him, blinking. _Tap tap tap tap tap._ This wasn’t like Hannibal. He would normally have protested at him leaving, or at least have tried to convince him to wait until Hannibal could properly say goodbye to him.

“All right,” he said quietly.

Hannibal waited for him to physically leave the room, his dark eyes following his own blue ones until Will had left and closed the door. Immediately after, he could hear muffled conversation, and against his best intentions pressed his ear against the door to listen.

“That was faster than I expected. I can’t help but wonder how you knew to call this number,” came Hannibal’s voice, indecipherable as usual.

Will frowned. If it was a patient then that didn’t make any sense whatsoever.

“Yes, of course,” Hannibal then said, sounding amused. There was another silence. “Please, wait a moment. I need to check on something.”

“Shit,” Will breathed, immediately moving away from the door and making his way down the hall as quickly and quietly as he could.

He heard the door of the study open, and he paused at the front door, looking back despite himself. Hannibal was staring at him with an expression he’d never seen before. At least, not this blatantly. It was an expression of cold calculation. It made his Will’s heart flutter, and not in the way Hannibal usually did. This was…. a tiny tingle of anxiety, moving from his chest to his toes. It was unnerving. He paused at the door, narrowing his eyes at Hannibal. The latter’s expression didn’t change. They stared at each other for a while, until Will finally stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

He drove home in a state of strange anxiety.

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His dreams that night were filled with fire, and blood, and the demon. And the Dragon. The Great Red Dragon, breathing fire and destruction and death over everything he loved and cherished. And the demon standing right behind him, grinning that awful, bloody grin of his.

Will’s eyes fluttered open and his arm immediately stretched out over the bed to find a body that wasn’t there. Hannibal hadn’t stayed the night, of course. His heart ached slightly at the thought, and it was only exacerbated when he thought of the last look they had shared last night. He knew that hadn’t been a regular phone call, and couldn’t understand why Hannibal would keep that from him.

Fuck it. That was up to Hannibal. He was sure Hannibal would call him today at some point to apologise and explain.

If not, then that was fine too, wasn’t it? Some things were personal. He didn’t need to know everything.

As it turned out, Hannibal didn’t call. Will finally caved, around dinnertime, and called him.

“Hey,” he said carefully when Hannibal answered.

“Is everything all right?” Hannibal asked.

Will paused, trying to trace any kind of emotion betrayed in Hannibal’s voice. He found nothing.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was wondering…”

“Yes?” Hannibal said. This time there was a trace of emotion. Will realised with a stab of hurt that it was impatience.

“I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner together tonight,” Will then said slowly.

“I’m sorry, Will. I can’t tonight,” Hannibal said. Will heard a slight hint of regret.

“Why not?” he then asked cautiously.

He heard Hannibal take a breath.

“You know what, never mind,” Will then said quickly. “It’s fine. I’ll speak to you soon. Bye.”

He hastily hung up. He realised he couldn’t bear to listen to Hannibal feed him some excuse. His mind drifted endlessly towards the possible reasons Hannibal couldn’t have dinner with him.

He decided, for once, instead of drinking alone tonight, he would ask Beverly if she was doing anything.

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“Dude, calm down. You still need to get home, somehow,” Beverly said with raised eyebrows.

“I’m fine,” Will grunted, wiping the residual whiskey from the corners of his mouth. “And if I end up being not fine tonight, I’ll call a cab.”

Beverly whistled. “Still, no reason to drink yourself to oblivion. What’s got you so riled up, Graham?” She asked it light-heartedly, but they both knew the question was serious.

Will took another large sip of whiskey before answering. The lights in the bar were low and dimmed, making it hard for him to concentrate.

“I think… Hannibal’s hiding something,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes.

Beverly frowned, leaning forward. “Something? Like what? Something important?”

Will leaned back in response, sighing. “I don’t know. He got a weird call last night and basically told me to fuck off while he was taking it, and he was too busy for dinner tonight…”

Beverly raised an eyebrow. “A weird call? Weird in what way?”

Will grunted, shrugging. “I don’t know exactly. Something was just… off.”

Beverly pursed her lips, seemingly in thought. “Do you… do you think there might be someone else?” she asked carefully.

Will scoffed, staring at the bottom of his glass. “Hannibal wouldn’t do that.”

At the skeptical look Beverly gave him, he clarified: “I mean, if there’s someone else, Hannibal would give me the dignity of telling me. And I don’t think that’s it, anyway… this is something else.”

“Like what?”

Will looked at her darkly. “I don’t know. And that’s what’s worrying me.”

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“Will, don’t.”

Beverly exasperated voice sounded jumbled in his ears. He ignored it.

“Will, come on. Don’t do this. Just go home. You’re way too drunk for any confrontation right now –”

“It’s not confrontation,” Will mumbled.

Beverly rolled her eyes. “Then what is it? If it’s not for confrontation, then why the fuck would you –”

“Because I _want_ , to, Bev. Even if I’m mad.”

Beverly looked at him with crossed arms and pursed lips as he called a cab.

“You’re going to regret this in the morning,” she muttered, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

“Nothing new for me,” Will said with a lopsided grin.

Beverly shook her head and rolled her eyes, pulling Will roughly towards her. “At least put your coat on. It’s cold as fuck.”

“You swear a lot when you’re drunk, Bev,” Will said, shrugging on his jacket.

“I always swear a lot, Will. So do you,” Beverly said with a smirk despite herself.

He smirked back at her. “That’s very true.”

“I’ll wait with you till your cab’s here. Then I’m going the fuck home. Text me… text me that you’re okay, yeah?” Beverly then said, her voice tired.

Will nodded, putting an arm around her shoulder. She shrugged it off good-naturedly.

“Don’t get all touchy-feely with me, Graham. Save that for your boyfriend.”

“If he’s still…” Will stopped himself. Beverly gave him a sympathetic look.

“Well, if he’s seen you this drunk before and he’s still here, he’s a keeper,” she said lightly, punching him on the arm as his cab drove up.

“Ow,” Will said, rubbing his arm. “He has. Drunker, even. And you’re stronger than you look.”

“Thanks,” Beverly replied, punching him again, harder this time.

“Ow! Why?” Will exclaimed.

“Just think of that if you decide to do anything stupid tonight. Remember that punch, and imagine it a lot worse if you do anything stupid. Okay?”

Will grimaced at her. “Yeah, all right. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Will. Text me,” she said meaningfully.

He nodded, and climbed into the cab, dozing off to sleep almost immediately.

It seemed like only a few seconds later that the cab stopped and he was in front of Hannibal’s house, the street black and the house tall and intimidating in the darkness. He paid the driver hastily, and got out of the cab, stumbling to the house before he could lose his courage and change his mind. He knocked on the door loudly and repeatedly, determined to wake Hannibal up if the latter happened to be sleeping.

There was no answer, though.

He tried and tried and tried, but no one answered the door. Eventually, he gave up with a groan, and sat down with his back against the door. He dozed off there, shivering in the cold, snowflakes settling into his collar and onto his face and hair.

He awoke a short while later to footsteps approaching him, slowing as they reached him.

“Will?” came Hannibal’s curious voice.

Will blinked up at him, the dark silhouette with the streetlights illuminating the street behind him. For a fleeting moment, Will imagined a shadow of antlers growing out of his head. He blinked and they disappeared.

“What are you doing here?” Hannibal asked when Will didn’t answer. “How long have you been waiting out here?”

“Where have you been?” Will asked accusingly.

Hannibal pursed his lips, his expression unreadable as he looked down at Will. The latter heaved a big sigh, suddenly feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” he then muttered, eyes downcast.

Hannibal softened, and he leaned down to extend a hand to Will. “Of course,” he said kindly.

Will took his hand and let himself be pulled up. He held onto Hannibal’s hand as they went inside, and noticed Hannibal was carrying a bag with him that he hadn’t seen before.

“What’s in there?” he asked quietly, gesturing to the bag.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Hannibal said smoothly. “Just wait here, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Hannibal disappeared, and Will shrugged off his jacket, hanging it over the back of a chair, sure Hannibal wouldn’t mind for now. The latter returned a few minutes later.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, holding Will’s head in his hands.

Will nodded slowly. The phone call, being unavailable for dinner and coming home at this hour of night… something was definitely off. But Hannibal obviously wasn’t going to tell him, so Will decided it was smartest to let him think he was clueless.

“Is everything okay? You were so cold last night, and today on the phone…” Will said instead, still speaking his thoughts even though they weren’t complete.

Hannibal let out a soft sigh. “Everything is fine, Will. You don’t need to worry.” He leaned forward and gave Will a gentle kiss, his thumb stroking his cheek. “Let’s go to bed.”

Will nodded, deciding that Sober Will would properly examine the strange behaviour Hannibal had been showing, while Drunk Will curled up and sighed into his chest, blankets wrapped around them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yayy reba's okay in my fic bc she did not deserve any of the shit that happened to her


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the feedback babes!! i love you <3 enjoy!

Chapter 16

Will was wading into the ocean, the waves lapping gently over his palms which were lying flat on the surface of the water. The further he went, the more peaceful he felt. The water was pleasantly cool on his feverish skin, and he closed his eyes, standing up to his chest in the water. For a brief moment, he imagined himself going in deeper and letting go, letting himself sink slowly and peacefully to the bottom, the water completely still and silent in his ears. What a lovely way to go. Completely alone, completely silent, completely… calm. Nothing but blue stillness surrounding him.

Somewhere, the logical part of him told him that drowning would be a horrible way to die. He let out a soft hiss, trying to ignore it, willing himself to feel the gentle water on his hands and lapping at his chin. It was at his chin, now. He hadn’t noticed that happening. It was all right, though. It was fine. He closed his eyes and took a breath, finally completely submerging himself under the water. It was salty on his tongue and stung his eyes, but he didn’t mind. He closed his eyes, willing himself to take the first deep lungful of water that would finally bring him the peace he had sought after for so long. Something… tugged at him though. Something wasn’t right, all of a sudden. He frowned, feeling the bubbles leave his lips and float upwards.

He opened his eyes, and the calm, still ocean had suddenly turned ink-black. He flailed, panicking. This was not the peace he had promised himself. He tried to swim back up to the surface, but suddenly didn’t know what was up and what was down. He felt the blackness fill his lungs, choking him. He saw a hand reaching out to him in the darkness, and a few moments later Hannibal’s face appeared, surrounded by the inky water. Will almost cried with relief and reached out to grip his hand tightly. Hannibal pulled him towards him forcefully, but as soon as Will was close enough to kiss him, Hannibal turned into the antlered demon, its grin so wide it looked like its jaw would break.

The demon kissed him roughly as he choked on the water and tried to get away. It held him close, its claws digging into the back of his head when it whispered into his ear, somehow perfectly clear despite the water.

“You’re mine, Will. Forever mine.”

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Will awoke with a jolt, sitting upright in bed. He looked around, breathing heavily, feeling as if he was still choking on the inky water. His eyes fell on Hannibal, who was still asleep beside him. He swallowed, remembering the previous day’s events. A coldness settled over him. Beverly had been right; he did regret coming here.

He was angry, and confused, and… unnerved. Hannibal’s behaviour had been strange yesterday, and it had changed something within Will. He didn’t like it. Hannibal was obviously hiding something from him, and it hurt more than Will cared to admit.

He looked at the sleeping man, seeming so calm and unguarded. Something Will didn’t get to see often. He grit his teeth, carefully getting out of the bed. He got dressed as quietly as he could, anxiously waiting for the moment Hannibal would awake. It didn’t come. He grimaced at his clothes lying around the room; he couldn’t even remember how last night had ended. Although it was safe to assume that he had stripped and fallen asleep the moment his head had hit the pillow, he still wasn’t comfortable not knowing the details.

When he was dressed, he took one last look at Hannibal, completely oblivious in his slumber. Then he left the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He walked down the stairs, made his way down the hallway. He paused at a door he usually had no interest in. He knew it was the door to the cellar. Hannibal had told him that, and only that he kept his wine and some food there.

Something nagged at Will at the thought, and that nagging caused him to put his hand on the door handle slowly. He hesitated, before turning it.

The door didn’t budge.

It was locked, of course. Will grimaced, partly at himself and partly at the door. He tried again, before accepting the door wasn’t going to open and scolding himself for being so paranoid in the first place. Then he left the house as quietly as he could, picking up his car from the bar last night and driving home in the warm colours of the dawn.

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A few hours later he found himself standing in front of a corpse. The Ripper’s newest victim.

_This isn’t right. The time between the victim’s murders is way too close. He’s killing for a reason beside his own personal needs._

This time it was a man, kneeling with his arms spread wide. The skin from his back was cut open and spread out to resemble bloody wings. His mouth was wide open, blood dripping from the corners. If the source of the bleeding was unclear, it became apparent to whomever decided upon closer inspection. The victim’s eyes had been carefully cut out and put inside his mouth. His liver was missing.

The killer had also made a crude cut from under the nose to the top lip of the victim.

_A mocking imitation of the cleft palate._

“It’s the Chesapeake Ripper, isn’t it,” Jack said bitterly, his eyes roaming over the victim.

Will nodded slowly. “He’s mocking the Dragon again. Apparently the Dragon didn’t learn his lesson after the first time.”

“He sent you a pair of eyes again. He ignored his first warning,” Jack said quietly.

Will nodded, avoiding his eyes, not willing to acknowledge what this meant. They were quiet for a while.

“Where’s Hannibal?” Jack asked then, a strange tone to his voice.

Will sent him an irritated glance. “How should I know?”

“Usually when I call you, Hannibal arrives with you to the crime scene. Has something happened?”

Will blinked. He realised he sometimes underestimated how perceptive Jack could be. He shook his head.

“No. If you want him here, why don’t you call himself?” he snapped.

Jack raised his eyebrows at him and was quiet for a while. “I’ll leave that to you. You obviously didn’t think it was necessary to bring him along.”

Will clenched his jaw, not responding.

“Were you with him last night?” Jack then asked casually.

Will looked at him sharply. “That’s actually none of your business, Jack.”

Jack sniffed. “You’re right. Just curious.”

A while later he was in his car, driving back home. His mind was spilling over with thoughts. The victim had been discovered around seven o’clock this morning. When he had arrived at Hannibal’s house last night at around three, Hannibal hadn’t been home. Instead, he had come home almost an hour later, carrying a bag Will had never seen before and wasn’t allowed to see the contents of.

Will stopped himself. He wasn’t being serious, was he? Was he seriously comparing Hannibal’s actions to those of the Chesapeake Ripper? This was ridiculous. He was being paranoid and connecting coincidences only because his mind wanted him to.

_But wasn’t his mind usually right?_

Will dug his nails into his palms, trying to force those thoughts to shut up. He knew he was heading towards a dangerous place; one he wouldn’t be able to find his way back from. His phone started buzzing, and he glanced over. It was Hannibal. He took a breath, and answered the phone, putting it on speaker.

“Hello.”

“Good morning, Will. You had disappeared when I woke up,” came Hannibal’s voice, sounding light.

“Yeah. I… needed to feed my dogs. Sorry for not letting you know,” Will said carefully.

“It’s quite all right, Will.”

Will was quiet, doubtless that Jack had contacted Hannibal about the murder. He didn’t want to be the one to bring it up though, for some strange reason he couldn’t name.

“…Is something wrong?” Hannibal then said quietly.

Will swallowed harshly, his fingertips automatically hovering over ‘end call’ button.

“No,” he said tightly.

“Are you sure?” Hannibal asked.

“Yes,” Will said through gritted teeth. Of course something was wrong, but how the fuck was he supposed to put what he was thinking and feeling into words? Anyway, he was most likely overreacting. He was making leaps that were unreasonable and ungrounded.

_Not completely, though._

Shut up.

“Jack called me about the newest Ripper victim. You have already been to see it?”

There was no trace of emotion in Hannibal’s voice, only polite interest. Will realised at that moment that he would pay all the money in the world to get an insight in Hannibal’s mind, even if only for a day.

“Yes, I have. The Chesapeake Ripper is warning the Dragon again. Warning him again,” Will said quietly.

“Would you like to discuss this together?” Hannibal suggested.

Will faltered, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“Will?” Hannibal said after a while.

He still didn’t answer, not exactly knowing why.

“Are you on your way home?” Hannibal then asked, his voice a murmur.

“Yes,” Will said shortly.

“Come over for dinner tonight, please. We needn’t discuss the victim if you don’t want to,” Hannibal said. Will could hear that Hannibal’s voice was controlled. Repressing something. He took a breath.

“I… I’ll call you later, Hannibal,” he then said tiredly.

He hung up before he could change his mind.

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He spent hours sitting on the couch doing his utter best not to think. He occupied his time by playing with his dogs, albeit games he didn’t have to stand up for. Dogs were simple. Dogs didn’t creep their way into your mind and make you unsure of anything you ever thought of them. Dogs didn’t keep secrets from you. Dogs didn’t make you fall in love with them and –

Okay, this train of thought was getting weird.

Point was, Will didn’t know what to think. And he knew no amount of avoidance was going to change that. The tapping had grown incessant and loud, bringing with it a thumping headache. He wondered idly how the fuck he was supposed to survive even another day of this shit.

He glanced at the time. It was six o’clock. If he wanted to make dinner at Hannibal’s, he’d have to leave soon. He sat up, putting his head in his hands and wondering what to do.

Fuck it. Will would go to Hannibal, and he would tell him the stupid things he had been thinking, and Hannibal would be shocked and confused, but he’d be able to show Will that everything had a completely rational explanation and eventually they’d be able to laugh about it all and they’d catch the real Ripper _and_ the Great Red Dragon together and everything would be fine.

A while later, he was sitting in the car, thinking about the icy cold metal pressing into the small of his back, providing comfort for a reason he did not quite understand.

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“Will,” Hannibal practically beamed at him, stepping inside to let Will in. “I’m so glad you decided to come. I was starting to fear something had happened.”

Will gave him a weak smile.

“Please, let’s eat. Dinner is ready.”

Will headed to the dining room as Hannibal headed to the kitchen, bringing their plates in a while later. Will blinked, looking around the room, remembering the first time he had sat here and how uncomfortable and out of his depth he had felt. It really wasn’t that long ago but it felt as if Hannibal and he had known each other for years. And yet, at the same time it felt like he knew nothing about him. If he had known then what would be the eventual result of that dinner…

Then he probably would have done everything exactly the same.

“Have you been to see the crime scene?” he asked casually, after thanking Hannibal for the meal.

Hannibal glanced up at him, his expression flickering for a moment. “Yes, I have. I must admit, I was more than a bit surprised that you had left so early in the morning without any word.”

“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t feel great and like I said, had to feed my dogs. Jack didn’t call me until I was home,” Will said lightly, avoiding Hannibal’s eyes as he ate.

“I understand,” Hannibal said politely.

“What did you think?” Will then continued. “Of the crime scene, I mean.” His hands were trembling ever so slightly, and he put them on his lap while he chewed to hide it.

“What did _you_ think, Will?” Hannibal asked curiously.

Will cleared his throat. There was a strange tension building between them, and it felt… unsafe. Wary.

“It’s clearly another threat,” he said, trying to sound as unphased as possible. “From the Ripper to the Dragon.”

Hannibal nodded, and Will looked back down at his plate, freezing almost imperceptibly. He speared a piece of meat with his fork, slowly bringing it to his mouth.

“What’s the meat?” he asked, sounding curious.

“Rabbit,” Hannibal said with a smile.

Will smiled back, popping the piece of meat into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed as quickly as he could, trying not to linger on the feeling that something about this meat was very off.

“So, it is another threat. Does this mean that the Ripper knows the Dragon hasn’t left you alone?” Hannibal asked, eyebrows raised.

Will nodded slowly. “Most likely.”

Hannibal frowned. “That is worrying. It seems he might be closer than we thought.”

Will hesitated, the rim of his wineglass touching his lip. “He hides in plain sight,” he then said quietly. “He is… smoke.”

Hannibal looked at him, his mouth tight with concern and a gleam in his eye. “Smoke is intangible and can be deadly.”

“Which is how everyone sees the Ripper. You’ll never catch him, but he’ll certainly make himself known,” Will said dryly.

Hannibal only smiled in response.

After they’d finished dinner, they took their seats in front of the fireplace in the study, hot cups coffee in their hands.

“Where were you coming home from last night?” Will then asked calmly, his gaze on the fire as he took a sip of his coffee.

Hannibal took a sip of his own coffee before answering with a smile. “I’m surprised you remember. I couldn’t sleep, and had gone for a drive to clear my head,” he said steadily, not even the hint of a tremor in his voice.

Will was almost inclined to believe him. Almost.

He shot Hannibal a lop-sided smile. “Weird time to go for a drive.”

“As it was a ‘weird time’ to show up on someone’s doorstep,” Hannibal said with a teasing smile.

Will nodded. “You’re right, it was. Guess we were both acting strange.”

Hannibal chuckled quietly. He gently took Will’s hand, and brushed his lips against the knuckles. “In all seriousness, I do apologise for asking you to leave like I did. My patient was having a bit of a crisis and I knew the phone call would take long. He can be… very intense. I didn’t make that clear to you. I was rude.”

Will blinked, his fingers twitching in Hannibal’s grasp.

“Will you forgive me?” Hannibal asked softly, his thumb stroking over Will’s hand.

Will swallowed harshly and nodded. “Of course, Hannibal. Of course I forgive you.”

Hannibal smiled, leaning forward and kissing Will gently on the lips. Will’s breath quivered as he kissed him back, tasting coffee and lies on his lips. Still, when Hannibal deepened the kiss, Will let him, his own mouth falling open at the feel of Hannibal’s tongue. Hannibal’s hand was at the back of his head, grasping his curls between his fingers.

Hannibal’s other hand rested on his jaw, before sliding down his neck, over his shoulder, under his arm and then it was sliding down his back – and Will practically leaped away, running his hands through his hair as he panted slightly, trying to ignore his arousal. Hannibal stood, concern clear on his face.

“Is something wrong?”

Will shook his head, taking a breath. “No. I’m sorry, I have a bit of a headache.”

“Do you need anything?”

He shook his head again. “No, it’s fine.”

Hannibal pursed his lips. “If you are sure. Shall we go to bed, then?”

“Um, actually…” Will chewed at his lip. “I… I think I’ll stay down here for a while longer. I won’t be able to sleep with this headache, anyway.”

Hannibal nodded slowly, walking over to him and putting a hand on the top of his head. Will was forced to look up at him given their position, and he closed his eyes at the feeling of Hannibal’s hands running through his hair.

“Don’t stay down here too long,” Hannibal then said quietly, looking down at Will.

Will gazed back at him. “I won’t,” he replied, just as quietly.

Hannibal leaned down and kissed him, his fingers tightening ever so slightly in Will’s hair. He gave Will a last, undecipherable smile, before heading up the stairs and to his bedroom.

Will almost gasped with relief, his hand going to the small of his back to feel the cold handle of his gun sticking out of his trousers. He took a deep breath to steady himself, sitting himself down more comfortably. His heart was beating in his throat, his ears sensitive to the tiniest sounds.

All he could do now was wait.

He waited for an hour, then another one, and then another one. And just a bit longer after that. When he finally felt confident enough to move, the house was deadly silent and just as dark, the only light coming from the fireplace that was still blazing. He swallowed, and stood up.

He slowly made his way down the hall, his socks making the slightest sound on the floor. He had to pause a few times to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, waiting with bated breath for sudden footsteps behind him.

They didn’t come, though, and he finally reached his destination. The cellar door. He pulled a couple of pins out of his pocket, leaning down to stick them into the lock. It had been a while since he’d done this, but there was no room for failure right now.

As he prepared himself for what would probably be a nerve-wracking and longer-than-necessary job, coincidental curiosity got the better of him and he turned the handle just for the hell of it. Just to see if by some strange coincidence it wasn’t open.

It was. The handle turned, and the door opened with a quiet click.

Will let out a quiet gasp of surprise, before steeling himself. He looked down at the steps leading down into the cellar, before stepping inside the door and shutting it softly behind him, beginning to descend the stairs.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for the feedback!! i really hope you enjoy this one <3

Chapter 17

It was even darker here than it had been in the rest of the house. He blinked harshly, willing his eyes to see something – anything. He stood at the top of the stairs, quickly starting to shiver as cold air swept over him. His hands brushed against the walls, trying to feel for a light switch. When he had to accept the fact that there wasn’t one, he kept his hands pressed against the walls, taking a deep breath before ever so slowly shuffling his feet down the first step. He moved his foot slowly over the second step until he felt it end, carefully lowering his foot onto the next one. He very briefly lost his balance and gasped, fingers digging into the wall for balance. When his heart had stopped beating wildly in his throat and he felt like he could move again, he continued this way until he finally reached the bottom.

It wasn’t until he had that he realised he’d been holding his breath pretty much the entire time. He let it all out, panting heavily into the icy darkness.

He still couldn’t see a thing. His fingers fumbled desperately for a light switch, feeling like the darkness was about to suffocate him. They brushed over something, and Will almost cried with relief before he pressed it.

The room lit up in stages. First directly in front of him, then a few paces after that, and another few paces after that.

Will’s eyes widened more with every separate illumination, until the room was completely lit and he felt like he was suffocating on something other than darkness.

Horror.

The tapping in his head reached its climax, until something finally burst through and his mind was flooded with realisation. He stood frozen to the spot, his hand not even having left the light switch. His breath was coming in short, hard gasps. There was a loud thumping in his ears and he realised wildly that it was his own heartbeat. He vaguely registered a faint dripping noise, not being able to force himself to look for the source, already knowing what the cause of the dripping would be.

Later, when trying to remember exactly what he had seen in Hannibal’s cellar, all he would remember was the colour red.

Will stood there, eyes wide open and unblinking, for what felt like hours. He couldn’t look away and he couldn’t move.

Finally, he let out a hollow laugh which turned into a sob. He was so. Fucking. Blind. It had been staring him in the face for ages. Hannibal fit the profile – _perfectly_. Will’s hands shook violently as he ran them through his hair, feeling utter disbelief at his ignorance.  He had shared a bed with Hannibal. He had shared his thoughts and the feelings he would never tell another person – he had laid his soul bare and been more vulnerable than he had ever been in front of anyone else. He had trusted him. Hannibal. The Chesapeake Ripper. He had fallen in –

_No._

None of that had been real. It had all been some sort of game Hannibal had been playing with him. Because that’s what the Ripper loved, right? Playing games. Messing with people’s heads.

He needed to get out. Right fucking now. Get out of this house, go straight to Jack and tell him everything.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins and he took one last look at the contents of the cellar, shaking, before turning around and bounding up the stairs, not caring that he couldn’t see anything. He stumbled a couple of times, barely registering the pain as he sprang back up and kept running.

When he reached the top of the stairs and burst through the door, he stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly towards the direction of the study, his heart pounding so violently he thought it was going to burst.

There was classical music coming from the study. It was a soft tune, gentle and melancholy.

Will glanced at the front door. He realised with a sinking feeling that it was, undoubtedly, locked. And he was pretty sure Hannibal had the key.

He took a deep breath, and started walking towards the study. It felt like he was walking through water, his movements slow and unsteady. His hand went to the back of his trousers, and he pulled out the gun, now unspeakably happy for Jack forcing him to take it. He held it out in front of him as he finally reached the open door and came to a standstill.

Hannibal was sitting in his chair, still wearing the clothes he was wearing before he supposedly went to bed, his legs crossed. He was holding a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. He didn’t even look up when Will came into the room.

“Hello, Will,” he said conversationally, taking a sip of his wine.

Will stared at him incredulously, words failing him. He wasn’t sure if he was feeling more angry or more hurt.

When Will didn’t reply, Hannibal carefully put a bookmark in the book and closed it, putting it on the small table beside him, and finally looked at him.

“I see you found the contents of my cellar,” he said after another sip of wine.

“You could say that,” Will said through clenched teeth, his voice low and trembling.

“I saw you trying to open the door, so I decided to do you the favour of unlocking it,” Hannibal continued casually.

Will bit the inside of his cheek. Of course Hannibal had been awake when he had snuck out. He had been stupid for thinking he wasn’t.

“I’ve been so fucking blind,” he whispered, the gun trembling in his hands.

“In your defense, I worked very hard to blind you,” Hannibal said kindly. “And you weren’t completely blind. You started suspecting very soon, didn’t you? You just didn’t realise it.”

Will nodded curtly. “I finally understand my dreams now.”

Hannibal made a move to stand up, and Will’s hand clenched around the gun visibly. “ _Don’t_ move,” he snarled.

Hannibal resumed his position with a cold smile. “Are you really going to shoot me, Will?”

“Yes,” Will said immediately. “First I’m going to shoot you, and then I’m going to shoot myself.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “I thought you were over your suicidal stage, Will.”

“That was before you came into my life,” Will said coldly, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in his chest.

Hannibal gave him another cold smile. “Now, you know that’s not true. I didn’t make you feel suicidal.”

“You’re doing a pretty good fucking job at it now.”

Will stared at the man he had shared the last few months of his life with, trying to see anything of the Hannibal he had known. There was nothing he recognised. Hannibal’s normal polite and warm demeanor had completely changed. All he could see was cold indifference. A hint of cruel amusement, even.

The Hannibal he had known didn’t exist.

“The scales have fallen from my eyes,” he whispered. “I see you now.”

 “Someone once told me I wear a very well-tailored person suit,” Hannibal said conversationally, taking another sip of wine.

“You’re not wearing it now,” Will said.

Hannibal shook his head. “I am not.” He looked Will up and down, and sighed. He put down his wineglass and stood up.

“I said don’t _fucking_ move,” Will snarled, the gun tight in his hand aimed right at Hannibal’s chest.

Hannibal gave him a disapproving look, taking a step forward.

“Stop!” Will yelled, but Hannibal ignored him, stepping slowly closer and closer until the gun was pressing into his chest. Will fell quiet, breathing heavily.

“Give me the gun, Will,” Hannibal said softly.

“No,” Will bit out.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” Hannibal said with a knowing smile.

“No?” Will flicked off the safety.

Hannibal’s eyes flickered down to the gun, and then back up to Will dispassionately. “Put down the gun,” he murmured.

“You’ve ruined my life,” Will whispered. “All that time, you’ve made me think that… that you felt something for me. That you cared. It was all a game to you, wasn’t it?”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, a smile tugging at his lips. “At first, it was.”

“Why? Why the fuck did you do all of this?” Will said wildly. He felt his eyes become wet, and he blinked furiously. “Why go to all the effort? Why _seduce_ me?”

“I wanted to see if you would figure it out. I had heard so much about your empathy, Will, I wanted to see just how good you were. Seducing you hadn’t completely been part of the plan, but I decided to go along with it since it seemed to be working quite well. Then I was going to kill you. Either when you had figured it out, or when I became bored. Whichever came first,” Hannibal replied matter-of-factly.

Will’s mouth opened and closed, reeling from the words. Then he let out a hollow laugh. “So all this, insisting I come for dinner, showing up at my front door, spending more and more time with me… that was all just an interesting game to see whether or not I would find out that you’re the Ripper.” He shook his head. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

Hannibal paused, his face thoughtful. “I changed my mind,” he then said simply.

Will stared at him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like. As time passed, I didn’t want to kill you anymore.”

“Why?” Will whispered.

Hannibal looked at him. “You know why, Will.”

Will shook his head. “That’s bullshit. Don’t try and convince me that any of this was real to you. You didn’t ever feel anything more for me than… than amusement and intrigue.”

“Which is, in itself, a lot more than I usually feel for people, so you should feel flattered, really.”

Will gave him a disbelieving look. “You’re starting to piss me off, Hannibal. You seem to have forgotten the fact that I’m holding a gun to your heart.”

Hannibal looked at him coolly. “I wasn’t finished. Yes, I may have only felt ‘amusement and intrigue’, as you put it, in the beginning. But that changed.” He paused. “I seem to have fallen in love with you,” he then said thoughtfully.

“Bullshit,” Will spat. “Don’t fucking lie to me. If you have even a modicum of respect for me, do not fucking lie.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “I’m not.”

“Stop!” Will shoved Hannibal’s chest with the gun. In that moment of brief unbalance, Hannibal slipped a scalpel from his sleeve and held it up to Will’s throat so quickly Will didn’t even realise what had happened until a few moments later.

He froze, staring at Hannibal with widened eyes.

“Lower the gun, and I lower the scalpel,” Hannibal said softly.

“No,” Will whispered. He stopped fighting the tears that had been threatening to fall during the entire exchange.

“Lower the gun. I don’t want to hurt you. Let us talk like adults, _mylimasis_ ,” Hannibal said gently. 

“Don’t call me that,” Will breathed. The scalpel dug into his throat. He could feel how sharp it was, and how easy it would be for Hannibal to slit his throat in a single movement. Right across the scar he had given himself.

He came to a crushing realisation. Hannibal was right. He couldn’t shoot him. If he could, he would have shot him the moment the scalpel had touched his throat. Hannibal knew this, or he wouldn’t have taken the chance. He took a deep, hitching breath, and slowly lowered the gun. Hannibal lowered the scalpel and was about to say something, when Will took a step back and put the gun against his own temple.

Hannibal froze.

“You’re right. I can’t kill you. But there’s no way I’m getting out of this alive, and I’d rather my death be by my own hand,” Will said, his voice strangely emotionless given the tears now streaming freely down his face.

“Don’t,” Hannibal murmured.

“Why not? Why would you care? You’ve had your fun, I found out. Your only option is to kill me. I’ll save you the effort,” Will said quietly.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Hannibal said gently.

“Maybe not, but you don’t really have another choice. And to be honest…” Will took a breath. “I’d rather die than have to live with the fact that I’ve been living a lie the past few months. Not only regarding the fact that you’re the serial killer I’ve been looking for for years. No, the fact that everything we’ve shared has been fake. You got into my head. You got into my heart.” Will’s voice broke on the last word and he took another breath. “For your own amusement.”

Hannibal shook his head. “I wasn’t lying when I said what I said. Will –” he took a step forward, and Will took a step back. “Please don’t,” he finished quietly.

“I don’t believe you,” Will whispered.

“Will…” Hannibal took another slow step forward, and this time Will didn’t move. “I’m telling the truth. Do you know what _mylimasis_ means?”

Will swallowed, and shook his head.

“It means beloved. Do you remember the first time I said it?” Hannibal took another step closer.

Will looked at him coldly. “It was right after we were discussing the fact that I had figured out what you have been feeding me the past few months.”

“It was after I had found you, drunk and depressed and afraid. You slept, and I took you to a field. Do you remember that?”

Will nodded wordlessly.

“And in that moment, standing in that field together with the stars glittering above us… there was no one else but you and I in the world, Will,” Hannibal said, his voice still soft. “And I asked you to turn to me instead of liquor in the future. I told you that you had me, now. And I meant it.”

His hand had stealthily crept up to Will’s arm as he was talking, and Will had let him.

“You have me, _mylimasis_ ,” Hannibal whispered. “You have me, and I have you.”

“Do you?” Will muttered.

“I hope I do. I really hope I do, Will.” With a swift movement, Hannibal pulled the gun from Will’s hand, flicking the safety back on.

Will stared at the gun in Hannibal’s hand dejectedly. Hannibal let out a quiet breath and removed the bullets, putting them in his pocket before throwing the gun onto the couch.

He slowly reached out a hand and put it against Will’s cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone. Will’s face crumpled, and his eyes closed, leaning into the touch.

“I don’t know what to do,” Will muttered.

He wanted to hurt Hannibal. He wanted to turn him in. He wanted to feel disgusted by the hand against his cheek, wanted to see his blood run over his fingers. He wanted to go back to a week before, when he had no idea about anything and was happy. He wanted to run.

Instead, he just stood there.

Hannibal pulled him close, wrapping his arms around Will. “We’ll figure it out together,” he whispered into his ear. He pressed a kiss to his temple, and Will stood there, his arms hanging limp.

“But first,” Hannibal then said, pulling away and holding Will at arm’s length, “we should get some sleep. We’ve both been awake all night, and the sun has come up.”

Will glanced at the window in mild surprise. He was right, the sun was up. He looked at Hannibal then, biting his cheek. Hannibal gave him a soft smile.

“I’ll set up the guest bedroom for you,” he said gently.

Will swallowed harshly, and nodded. “At least until we’ve talked.”

Hannibal nodded, taking Will’s hand. “Of course. Anything you need.”

Hannibal led Will to the guest bedroom, closing and locking the cellar door on the way. Will followed in a daze, not knowing what the fuck he was doing. A voice in his mind screamed at him to run, run _now_ , this was utterly foolish, he shouldn’t be doing this. But he ignored it, and instead focused on the warmth he was feeling from Hannibal’s touch, the way his thumb was stroking circles into his palm.

This was so fucked up. Will was holding hands with the Chesapeake Ripper, and his mind was more focused on the first part than on the second. This wasn’t right. There was something wrong with him.

He stood uselessly to the side as Hannibal set up the room. When he had finished, Hannibal walked up to him, taking his face in his hands. He looked at Will questioningly, and Will shook his head, his jaw set. Hannibal nodded, something flickering in his eyes, before pressing a soft kiss onto Will’s cheek instead of his mouth.

“Go to sleep, my love,” he said. “Everything will seem better in the morning. Or rather,” he glanced at his watch, “the afternoon.”

“What time is it?” Will asked, his voice rough.

“Seven,” Hannibal replied.

“Christ,” Will said, running his hands through his hair. He sent Hannibal a glare. “Just to be clear, we are not okay.”

Hannibal nodded. “I understand.”

“Good,” Will snapped. “I’m not  –”

They both froze at a sound coming from downstairs.

“Was that…?” Will whispered incredulously.

“The doorbell,” Hannibal finished, his expression cold.

Will frowned at him, his eyes narrowing. “Expecting anyone?”

“No,” Hannibal said slowly, and his tone erased the doubt Will had.

The doorbell rang again. Hannibal turned to Will quickly, who was eyeing the doorway of the bedroom with wide eyes.

“Will,” he said urgently, “I need to know that you’re not going to say anything. I need to know that whoever is ringing the doorbell is not going to find out about anything that’s just happened. Do you understand?”

Will nodded slowly, not missing the gleam of the scalpel which had somehow found its way back into Hannibal’s sleeve, his hand gripping Will’s shoulder. Conveniently close to his neck.

The Chesapeake Ripper could not afford to take chances.

“Promise me, Will,” Hannibal insisted. “I need to know that I can trust you.”

The doorbell kept ringing.

“I promise,” Will said quietly.

Hannibal gave Will a once-over before nodding, apparently satisfied with what he saw. He tutted at the insistent noise. “Rude,” he murmured, before leaving the room and quickly descending the stairs.

Will stood by the door of the bedroom, straining his ears. He held his breath, frowning in confusion as Jack’s voice sounded through the house.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the feedback babes!!! we are nearing the end now. hope you enjoy <3

Chapter 18

“Sorry for barging in on you like this, Hannibal,” Will heard Jack say. His tone was friendly, but there was something underneath there.

“Not at all, Jack. Come in. What can I do for you?” came Hannibal’s voice, equally friendly with something lying underneath the surface.

And Will knew.

The jig was up. Jack had figured it out, or at least was suspicious enough to consider Hannibal a suspect. And he knew that Hannibal knew that, and that Jack would not be leaving this house alive.

He suddenly remembered the last conversation he had shared with Jack. Jack had asked him if he’d been with Hannibal the night before the murder, and Will had written it off as nosiness. The conversation had a different tone to it, now.

“I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions, is all,” Jack said.

There was a moment of silence. Will wished desperately that he could see them.

“About what?” Hannibal then asked, a smile in his voice.

“Where were you the night before the last Ripper victim was found?”

Will cringed. Whether it was for Jack or for Hannibal, he didn’t know.

“I was at home,” Hannibal said, sounding suitably perplexed. “Where is this coming from, Jack?”

“Can you describe to me exactly what you did that night?” Jack said, smoothly ignoring the last question. He was well-trained in this.

“I had dinner, then I had some tea and I read until I went to bed.”

“Is there anyone who can confirm that you were at home?”

Hannibal was quiet for a moment, and Will took a breath.

“I can,” he then called out, before stepping out of the bedroom and walking downstairs. He glanced at Jack who was looking rather astonished.

“I was with Hannibal after dinner. All night,” Will continued, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk.

Hannibal looked from him to Jack.

“All right,” Jack then said slowly. His look turned from astonished to dark. “Then I’m sorry for coming in here like this, Hannibal,” he said quietly, looking at Will with narrowed eyes.

The latter averted his gaze.

“It’s quite all right, Jack. It’s always best to be thorough,” Hannibal said with a gracious nod.

Will saw him clasp his hands together behind his back, noticed the scalpel appearing from his sleeve. Hannibal glanced at him, his eyes daring him to do anything.

“Did you come here on official business, Jack?” Hannibal then asked curiously. “Or was this more of a personal hunch of yours?”

Jack crossed his arms, glaring at Hannibal. “Let’s say this was more of a personal hunch. Again, sorry to have troubled you.”

“Please, do not worry about it,” Hannibal said with a kind smile.

He took a step towards Jack, seemingly raising his arm to put a hand on his shoulder; but Will knew better, and he took a step forward – when the sound of glass shattering rang through the air.

The three of them fell back as a figure came crashing through the window, the room a mess of glass shards and rain falling through. Will looked up dazedly, his hand protecting his face, to see a tall figure looming above him. It turned, and Will froze as he locked eyes with Francis Dolarhyde.

The latter looked at him impassively, and Will’s eyes fell to the gun he was holding in his hand. Dolarhyde’s eyes roamed over the room before settling on Hannibal.

“Doctor Lecter,” he said with a cold nod, his voice powerful and confident in the otherwise silent room.

“Francis,” Hannibal nodded back.

Dolarhyde then looked at Jack, who was lying on the floor and staring at him. In a flash, Jack’s hand went to the gun in his holster, and a shot rang through the air.

Will covered his ears and flinched, his ears ringing so loudly he couldn’t hear anything else. It seemed like hours had passed until the ringing had faded enough for him to be able to focus on anything else, and he looked around wildly.

Dolarhyde had gone. Hannibal was standing up, brushing glass from his clothes, before he looked over to Will.

“Are you all right?” Hannibal asked.

“Jack,” Will said slowly, before standing up and hurrying towards him.

He was on his back, his eyes closed and a pool of blood forming underneath him.

“Jack!” Will yelled, shaking him.

Hannibal walked over to him as well, kneeling down and pressing his fingers against his throat.

“He’s alive,” he said calmly. “He’s lost consciousness due to blood loss. He’s been shot in the chest though, so he won’t live very long.”

“Are you – call 911!” Will snarled.

“Will. Don’t you think –”

“Call the fucking number, Hannibal,” Will said, his voice dangerously quiet.

Hannibal pursed his lips before nodding and calling for help.

“We need to leave,” he then said. “Dolarhyde will be waiting.”

Will looked at him and back to Jack. “Will he make it?” he asked, voice rough.

Hannibal sighed quietly. “I don’t know. He might. But we can’t stay here, Will. You heard Jack. It’s over.”

He reached out a hand. “Are you coming with me?” he then asked quietly.

Will stared at his hand, every instinct telling him to stay exactly where he was.

He nodded, taking his hand and allowing himself to be pulled up.

With a last glance at Jack, he let Hannibal pull him out of the room, into his jacket and out of the house.

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Will’s head was leaning on the window of the car, his eyes tracking the movement of the raindrops falling onto it.

“Where are we going?” he asked quietly. It felt like he was dreaming.

“I have a house, far from Baltimore,” Hannibal said, just as quiet. “Dolarhyde will be following us. The FBI won’t find us.”

“Of course you do,” Will muttered.

“Try and get some sleep, Will,” Hannibal said. “I have a feeling we have a long day ahead of us.”

Exhaustion was pulling at Will’s eyelids, but he refused to let it take him.

“This is insanity,” he murmured. He turned to Hannibal sharply. “That night you got the phone call—”

“That was Dolarhyde, yes. And the following evening I had dinner with him. Which is why I couldn’t have you come over, as I’m sure you understand.”

“Why did he call you?” Will asked quietly, his eyes on his own hands, perpetually tapping.

Hannibal huffed in amusement. Will could see the dark circles under his eyes, the faint glisten of sweat on his upper lip. He was as exhausted as Will was. If it were anyone else, Will would be worried he’d crash the car.

This was Hannibal, though. Hannibal wasn’t anyone else.

“He wanted to make my acquaintance in person after the multiple messages we had sent to each other. He told me he admired my work and wanted me to meet… The Great Red Dragon.”

“And how was that?”

“Enlightening. I asked him about his fascination for you. He returned the question. Our answers were quite different, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

Hannibal sent him a glance, his eyebrows raised. “I told him that if he were to send you any more… gifts, I would kill him.”

Will snorted. “My hero.”

Hannibal smiled, and his teeth showed in his amusement.

“He told me that he felt like you were the only one who would be able to truly appreciate the Red Dragon. After my threats and your blatant disinterest for his offer, his intentions changed. He sent you the eyes to challenge me. To see if this was about you, or if it was about me.”

“About protecting me or protecting your territory,” Will muttered.

Hannibal nodded. “It was about you, of course,” he clarified after a moment of silence.

“Why didn’t the two of you just kill each other then and there?”

“We both agreed there was a better place and a better time. I promised him I would leave him a message that night, though.”

Will nodded, glaring. “Which is what you were coming back from when I went to you.”

“Yes,” Hannibal said after a pause.

“You took a risk, there. I could have connected the dots right then.”

“That’s exactly what happened, wasn’t it? Seeing me arrive at my house in the dead of the night was the final push you needed to realise who I am.”

Will turned to him, frowning. “That was dangerous. The smart thing to do would have been to kill me then. Why didn’t you?”

“Taking risks that could affect my personal wellbeing is not something I tend to do. Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for you –” he paused for a moment. “It is something I have found myself doing more and more since I met you.”

Will swallowed and looked out of the window, not knowing how to respond.

“Which reminds me. Give me your phone, please,” Hannibal then said politely.

Will scoffed. “I left it at your place. I’m not stupid enough to have brought it along with us.”

Hannibal nodded. “Good.”

“I hope your dinner was worth it,” Will muttered, closing his eyes.

“I do hope that’s not jealousy I’m hearing in your voice, Will,” Hannibal said, sounding thoroughly amused.

Will snorted. “Please.”

Despite his earlier resolve, he could feel sleep tugging him down.

“Sleep well, _mylimasis_ ,” came Hannibal’s quiet voice, and it was the last thing he heard before he was swallowed up into darkness.

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When Will woke, the car had stopped moving, and it was dark. He rubbed a hand over his face, his eyes still sticky from exhaustion.

“Christ,” he muttered, the events of the past days crashing onto him.

“We’re here,” Hannibal murmured, looking up at the house.

Will’s eyes followed his, and he was able to make out a house in the darkness, standing next to a cliff. Sounds of the ocean reached Will’s ears, and he got out of the car wordlessly, walking over to the side of the cliff.

He looked down at the dark waves crashing, and thought back to his dream, wondering what it would be like to plunge into the icy darkness below. He felt a hand on his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Let’s go inside,” Hannibal murmured in his ear, and Will shivered, before following him.

“What now?” Will asked, sitting down on the sofa as Hannibal turned on the lights and went to get them a drink.

“We wait, I suppose. He won’t be far,” Hannibal said calmly, walking over to Will with a glass of water.

Will took it from him, standing up, before setting it on a table.

“And then what, exactly?” Will snapped. “The three of us have dinner and discuss the events of the past few months? Catch up like old friends?”

Hannibal sent him a look. “I don’t imagine it will be like that, no,” he said coolly.

“What will it be like, then? How do you see this happening?”

Hannibal sighed, putting down his glass of water as well. “I imagine it will be a lot like the dreams you are so afraid of, Will. The ones you cower away from, while being less afraid of the dream itself and what it could mean, and more afraid of the fact that you crave it.” His voice was cold and impassive, as were his eyes as they looked into Will’s. He gave a cruel smile and leaned forward. “Have you ever seen blood in the moonlight, Will?” He glanced out the window meaningfully before looking at Will again. “It looks quite black.”

Will stared at him in shock, reeling from being poked exactly where it hurt. Which, of course, Hannibal would know like no other.

“ _Fucking_ shrinks,” he hissed, before punching Hannibal – hard – in the face.

The latter staggered back, but sprang back in a split second and punched Will in the gut. Will gasped, curling over, before kicking Hannibal’s legs out from underneath him, causing him to fall.

Will took this moment to kick Hannibal’s ribs repeatedly, until Hannibal reached over and pulled his ankle, causing him to come crashing down as well.

They both sprang up, eyeing each other, sweat on their foreheads and their breath coming in pants. Suddenly, Hannibal jumped forward, landing a punch in Will’s face, and the latter stumbled, his back crashing against the wall.

He felt blood pouring freely out of his nose and into his mouth, and Hannibal leaned towards him. Will froze, sensing a sudden change of energy. Hannibal’s eyes were hungry, his mouth curled up into a smirk. Will stood completely still as Hannibal, lightning-quick, leaned forward. Will’s breath stopped when Hannibal slowly and deliberately licked the blood from Will’s lips, keeping eye contact with him the entire time.

Will stared at him in astonishment, Hannibal’s breath warm on his lips and his eyes gazing into his tauntingly. To his dismay, he felt excitement creep into his veins and he leaned forward, his lips almost touching Hannibal’s – before snapping out of it and punching him hard on the jaw instead.

He ducked under Hannibal’s reaching arms, running to the kitchen and picking up the first knife that he saw. Hannibal followed him, and upon seeing the knife, gave him a disapproving look.

“Come now, Will. We’re past this,” he said, his voice husky. “Besides, wouldn’t you prefer to hurt me with your bare hands? A knife is so… impersonal.”

Will glanced at the knife in his hands, before nodding and throwing it to the side. “You’re right. I do want to hurt you with my bare hands.”

He immediately leaped towards Hannibal, but Hannibal sidestepped him and grabbed the back of his head, smashing his face into the fridge.

Will groaned, his head pounding. He reached an arm upwards, but Hannibal quickly grasped both of his wrists with his free hand, pinning them painfully behind his back.

His hand was in Will’s hair, fingers digging into his scalp. Hannibal pressed his body into Will’s, and Will jumped at the feeling of something digging into his backside.

“This is turning you on?” Will snarled, struggling wildly. “You’re fucked up, Hannibal.”

For that, Hannibal bashed his head onto the fridge once more. Then his lips were at Will’s ear. “That was rude. And you’re lying if you say it’s not having the same effect on you.”

Will felt Hannibal’s hand weaken its grip around his wrists, and he quickly pulled free and turned around, shoving Hannibal onto the counter. His fist came down, aiming for Hannibal’s face, but the latter twisted out of the way and kicked him hard, causing him to stumble back.

Hannibal jumped up, agile as a cat, dark eyes boring into Will’s. He was as bloodied and bruised as Will, but it didn’t seem to affect him one bit.

Suddenly, he lunged forward, shoving Will back against the fridge. But instead of smashing his face against it, he grabbed Will’s wrists again, pinning them above his head. Will struggled, but, admittedly, not as much as he could have. He swallowed, his eyes going to Hannibal’s lips, before taking a breath and head-butting him in the face.

Hannibal stumbled back, grunting, hand on the kitchen island for balance. He brushed a finger across his split lip, examining the blood with interest before raising his eyebrows at Will and putting his finger into his mouth, sucking the blood from it.

Will gulped, still standing against the fridge, and before he could register what was happening Hannibal was pressed up against him, pinning his wrists above him once more.

Hannibal’s face neared his, his free hand holding Will’s chin just a tad too firmly. His thumb brushed over Will’s bottom lip before slowly moving into his mouth, and Will bit down – hard. Hannibal swore under his breath, putting his hand around Will’s neck and shoving him against the fridge so hard he saw stars.

“That wasn’t nice, Will,” Hannibal hissed.

“I never said I’d fight fair,” Will spat back.

Hannibal’s fingers went back to his mouth. “If you bite me again, I’ll pull your teeth out, one by one,” he said pleasantly.

“Promises, promises,” Will murmured, feeling the corners of his mouth pulling up to a grin to match Hannibal’s.

Hannibal’s thumb brushed his lip again, and this time Will’s tongue came out, licking the blood from it slowly. Hannibal’s eyes gleamed, and he slipped his thumb into Will’s mouth. Will started sucking it, tasting the warm, metallic liquid on his tongue and swallowing it down.

Hannibal pulled his hand away, roughly grabbing the back of Will’s head and crashing their lips together. Hannibal’s hand let go of his wrists, and Will’s hands went to Hannibal’s hair, pulling as they kissed as if they wanted to devour each other. Hannibal’s teeth sunk into Will’s bottom lip and he groaned, turning them around so Hannibal was up against the fridge.

Hannibal lapped the blood from Will’s lip and Will tasted it on his tongue, exciting him more than it should. Will reached down, tearing Hannibal’s shirt open, the buttons scattering over the floor. Hannibal growled at this, pulling away long enough to pull Will’s shirt off from over his head.

They resumed the kiss, and Hannibal’s hand shot out to absent-mindedly shove everything off the kitchen island before throwing Will down on top of it. He climbed up over Will, straddling him, his nails digging into his chest.

“Wait,” Will said breathlessly, putting his hand on Hannibal’s shoulder as the latter went to kiss him again.

Hannibal looked at him impatiently.

“He might be watching,” Will then said, glancing out of the window.

“Let him,” Hannibal hissed.

Will gasped quietly, pulling Hannibal back down onto him and undoing his belt.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't think i've ever written the word 'blood' as much as i have while writing a hannibal fic loool
> 
> thank you guys, i hope you enjoy <3

Chapter 19

Will stared out of the window across the room, soft morning light falling onto him and Hannibal. Their legs were tangled into each other, Hannibal’s arm around his shoulder and Will’s head on Hannibal’s chest.

“There is something fundamentally wrong with me, isn’t there,” Will said slowly, feeling the tips of Hannibal’s fingers brush against his shoulder lightly.

“I would argue there is most likely something fundamentally wrong with everyone,” Hannibal replied without a beat, his voice rough from sleep.

Will closed his eyes briefly. “Not everyone is a cannibalistic serial killer.”

Hannibal’s fingers tightened on his shoulder. A light warning.

“And not everyone sleeps with them after finding out,” he replied.

“Exactly. Which makes me believe that whatever is wrong with you… I’m a lot worse.”

Hannibal made a non-committal sound, resting his chin on top of Will’s head.

“Tell me, Will,” he said then. “Do you want to leave? Run to Jack, if he’s still alive, pretend all of this never happened, go and lead a normal life?”

“Are you asking me a question, or giving me the choice?” Will asked quietly.

“I would let you, you know,” Hannibal said after a short silence. “If that was what you truly wanted, I would let you go.”

Will snorted. “That’s bullshit.” He sat up and turned around so he was facing Hannibal, his chin on his hand resting on Hannibal’s chest. “You would only let me go,” he continued quietly, “if you were absolutely certain that I would return to you.”

The corners of Hannibal’s lips rose into a slight smile. He raised his hand and stroked his thumb along Will’s cheek. “Are you under the impression that I’m holding you hostage? You must have forgotten that you came with me of your own free will. Go on, walk out of the door right now. I won’t stop you.”

Will shook his head. “Not hostage, no. You don’t need to, and you know it. You’ve known it since the moment I couldn’t shoot you.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “You sound like you are trying to accuse me of something, and yet all I’m hearing is how you are unable to stay away from me.”

“You foster codependency,” Will hissed. “That’s all you’ve been doing since day one, and now you know I’m in too deep.”

“Again, hardly my fault. Besides, are you really convinced that the only reason you haven’t left is because I made you unable to?” Hannibal sounded amused, although there was something lying underneath the surface. Will knew he had struck a nerve.

He bit his lip, eyes narrowing as he thought. “No,” he then said slowly. “No, it’s not that simple.”

“You know how I was able to… ‘foster dependency’, as you said? You know why you can’t leave?”

Will swallowed, eyes hardening. “Yes.”

There was a gleam in Hannibal’s eye. “Tell me.”

“Because we understand each other. I understand you like no one else can, and I’m the only one you have allowed to see you as I have. And you understand me like no one else can, and you’re the only one who’s cared to try.” His nails dug into Hannibal’s chest. “We’re wrapped around each other’s brain,” he hissed then.

Hannibal’s smile broadened. “Which, I would argue, makes us unmissable to each other.”

“Loneliness is an insidious thing.”

“And we both have been lonely for a very long time.”

Will closed his eyes, the truth of that echoing through his chest. He felt Hannibal take his hand and press soft kisses to his knuckles.

“The truth is, Hannibal…” he said slowly, opening his eyes to see Hannibal looking at him curiously. “I’ve never felt as alive as when I’m with you.”

Hannibal’s smile disappeared slowly, another expression replacing it, and he pulled Will in for a long, deep kiss. “Likewise,” he whispered against his lips.

They were silent for a moment, studying each other and thinking about the implications of that statement.

“You can still run,” Hannibal then murmured, and Will knew that he really was giving him a choice this time. His heart felt heavy for it.

He gave a sad smile and shook his head. “We have a Dragon to kill,” he said quietly.

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“I heard something,” Will said suddenly, coffee cup halfway to his lips.

Hannibal paused, putting the plate back down from where he picked it up. “I’ll go take a look. Stay here.”

And with that, he left, leaving Will to strain his ears. He frowned in confusion when he heard a female voice, and despite Hannibal’s warning, stood up to follow him, but not before grabbing a knife and tucking it into his belt at the small of his back.

He walked to the door to see Hannibal in conversation with a pretty Japanese woman with cold eyes, and they both turned to face him when he cleared his throat to announce his presence.

“Will, this is Chiyoh. She was my aunt’s handmaiden and… my family.” He turned back to her. “There will be no need for your skills, Chiyoh. This is something Will and I have to do without your assistance.”

“He has been watching you for a while,” Chiyoh replied, her gaze calculating when she looked at Will.

Hannibal nodded. “We know. We are all waiting until the time is right.”

Chiyoh nodded once. “I will be nearby.”

Hannibal put a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

He turned to go inside.

“Did you eat her?” Chiyoh then asked abruptly.

Hannibal turned back, his expression flickering. “Yes,” he said softly.

Will saw Chiyoh tense.

“But I did not kill her.”

Chiyoh looked at Hannibal, and Will saw relief in her eyes. Hannibal held her gaze for a moment, before going inside.

Will and Chiyoh stood in silence for a while, watching each other. He realised there was still so much he didn’t know about Hannibal. So much he may never know.

“Do you know what he is?” Chiyoh asked quietly.

Will nodded slowly. “Something made him this way.” It was a question.

Chiyoh looked past Will, her eyes thoughtful. “Something set it in motion, yes. But I believe Hannibal has always had the capacity to become what he is. We all experience trauma, and process it in different ways. But not everyone turns out… like that.”

“Nature versus nurture,” Will muttered. “It’s a combination of both.”

“Which leaves me with the question… You know what he is, and yet you decide to stay with him. Are you like him?” Her words were careful, her eyes not meeting his but looking out over the cliff before them.

Will swallowed. “Not like him, no. But not like others, either. I am… my own breed.” He snorted at himself, shaking his head. “I could ask you the same question.”

Chiyoh’s eyes hardened. “I am… a part of him. And he is a part of me.”

Will stared at her, his jaw clenching. “Yeah,” he then said quietly. “Same here.”

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Will stared out of the window, out into the night. They were silent for a while as Hannibal brought out a bottle of wine and set three glasses on the table.

Will raised an eyebrow at this, but made no comment.

“What are you thinking, _mylimasis_?” Hannibal asked quietly, handing him a glass of wine.

Will took a breath, taking a sip of wine. “I’m thinking of what I’m leaving behind. Whether we survive or not. Jack, Alana, Beverly… The fact that they wrongly put their faith in me will haunt them for the rest of their lives.”

Hannibal tilted his head at him curiously. “You worry about what they will think of you?”

Will shook his head. “No. I worry about what they’ll think of themselves.”

“You care about them.”

Will frowned at him. “Of course I do. They’re my friends.”

Hannibal nodded. “They do not need to know, Will,” he then said.

Will frowned even harder. “What are you talking about? Of course they do. I went with you, didn’t I?”

Hannibal opened his mouth to reply, but apparently changed his mind. Instead, he smiled at Will, still holding the bottle of wine.

“Where will we go, if we survive this?” Will asked then.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, thinking. “I have a number of ideas in my head. We’ll see what best suits our needs.”

Will nodded, taking a sip of wine.

“I take it this means that you have with certainty decided to remain with me when all of this is over?”

Will glared at him. “Apparently.” His face softened, and he sighed. “Where else would I go?”

Hannibal looked at him for a while, his expression unreadable. “You know, Will… No one can be truly aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love we see potential in our beloved. Through that love we allow our beloved to see our potential. Expressing that love, our beloved’s potential comes true.”

Will blinked, staring at Hannibal.

“I love you, Will,” Hannibal then said.

There was a low sound and a bullet hole appeared in the large window behind them, creating a spiderweb of cracks. The wine bottle shattered in Hannibal’s hand.

Will watched Hannibal glance down at his shirt, a wine stain appearing on it. Time seemed to have slowed down and the window shattered around the bullet hole.

The wine bottle dropped from Hannibal’s hand. Will blinked slowly, watched as the red wine stain on Hannibal’s shirt blossomed into blood. He realised dully that Hannibal had been shot.

Glass shards fell through the air around them, the patio beyond the shattered window nothing but dark night.

Striding out of the blackness came Francis Dolarhyde. Will watched as Hannibal slid to his knees, blood pumping from the gunshot wound in his abdomen, Will’s heart beating loudly in his ears.

His hand was tight around the stem of the wineglass, watching as Dolarhyde entered with a gun in one hand and a duffel bag in the other. There was a knife in his belt. His eyes met Will’s and time sped up again to normal speed.

“Don’t run. I’ll catch you,” Dolarhyde said to him, his voice low.

Will didn’t respond, instead looking back to Hannibal who was glancing up at Dolarhyde.

“Hello, Francis,” he said calmly, although his face was covered with a light sheen of sweat.

“Hello, Doctor Lecter,” Dolarhyde replied.

Will took a sip of his wine, staring at Hannibal on the floor. The latter stared at him as well, his expression unreadable.

Dolarhyde pulled a tripod from his bag, throwing it at Will and then pointing the gun to his head. Will started setting it up.

“You did well, setting that fire, Francis. For a moment I feared they had you,” Hannibal said, clutching his stomach.

Dolarhyde squatted down so he was at eye-level with Hannibal. “They were never going to have me, Doctor Lecter. The Great Red Dragon’s work is not done yet.”

He stood up again, grabbing a camera from his bag and handed it to Will, still holding him at gunpoint. The latter set it up wordlessly.

“I’m going to film your death, Doctor Lecter, as dying, you meld with the strength of the Dragon.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “It’s a glorious and rather discomfiting idea.”

Will backed away from the camera, hand slowly going to the back of his trousers where the knife was still tucked into his belt.

“Watching the film will be wonderful, but not as wonderful as the act itself,” Dolarhyde said, before suddenly slamming his knife into Will’s face.

Will was vaguely aware of Hannibal violently flinching as the blade pierced his cheek, fiery hot pain taking over his senses. Blood filled his mouth and poured down his cheeks. He grasped Dolarhyde’s arms, desperately trying to fight him off. Dolarhyde lifted him off the ground, driving the knife in deeper, and Will could feel himself choking on his own blood. Dolarhyde then hurled him through the broken window and onto the patio, and he landed limply on the stones.

He gasped, watching his blood spatter onto the ground around him. He slowly got to his hands and knees, watching Dolarhyde stride after him.

“It’ll be easy to break your back,” he said, his eyes cold. “Better than killing you. Break your back and twist it, just to be sure. They’ll have to roll you to your next investigation.”

Will grit his teeth, pulling the knife from his belt. Dolarhyde immediately pulled it out of his grasp, tossing it over the cliff. Will’s hand almost drunkenly went to the knife still in his cheek and he pulled it out with a gasp, before sticking it into Dolarhyde’s leg. The latter growled and yanked it out, slamming it into Will’s collarbone.

 He grasped the knife tightly, using it as a handlebar to pull Will’s shoulders until his back snapped.

Just as Will could feel the bones in his back starting to pop, completely unable to do anything, he saw Hannibal leap onto Dolarhyde’s back, causing the latter to drop him.

He watched as Hannibal tried to snap Dolarhyde’s neck, but it was too strong, and they both staggered across the patio as Dolarhyde tried to throw him off. He finally managed to toss him off his back, and Hannibal rolled across the stones.

Will grunted, pulling the knife from his collarbone, blood spraying out. He ran to Dolarhyde and stabbed him in the back, and the latter turned to him with a roar of pain and rage. Will spotted Hannibal crawling towards them from the corner of his eye, something in his hand. Dolarhyde roared again when Hannibal – holding a hatchet, Will now saw – slashed his Achilles tendon and then his knee.

Dolarhyde went down on one knee, blood pouring from his wounds. Will and Hannibal watched him, and knew they were both thinking the same thing. Dolarhyde, this huge driven man, their enemy and also their equal. The Great Red Dragon. Dolarhyde held their gaze – and struggled back to his feet.

Will’s eyes met Hannibal’s, and there was a profound moment of understanding between both of them.

Dolarhyde staggered as Hannibal jumped onto his back again, his leg buckling. And in that moment, he was already too late to see Will coming, knife in his hands. There was a sickening sound and blood poured over Will’s hands and his shirt as he stuck the knife into Dolarhyde’s abdomen, pausing only for a moment before jerking the knife downwards. Blood fountained and Dolarhyde bucked and arched, trying to fight them off of him. He kicked Will and the latter sprawled across the stones.

Dolarhyde reached down and pulled the knife from his stomach, his innards shining in the moonlight. And Will watched as Hannibal leaned down and bit out Dolarhyde’s throat.

Time seemed to slow down again as Will saw Hannibal tear a large chunk of flesh, skin stretching and breaking between his teeth before he spat the lump of gnarled skin out, blood mixing with saliva as it fell to the ground. Dolarhyde arched as blood fountained from his throat and belly, his roars now turned to gurgling. Will stared as Hannibal fell from his back and dropped to the stones.

Dolarhyde staggered before staring up at the moon and dropping to his knees, and then onto his back. He tried to take a breath, blood bubbling from his throat. He then turned his head and stared at Will, who was still on the ground, the life slowly fading from his eyes until it was finally gone.

Will and Hannibal both dragged themselves to their feet, staring at Dolarhyde’s corpse. The blood pooling around him spread out on either side of him.

Forming two red dragon’s wings.

They then looked at each other over Dolarhyde’s dead body, blood dripping from both of them as they neared each other, standing by the cliff.

Hannibal’s arms found their way around Will, and the latter leaned onto him, his hands on Hannibal’s chest as their faces neared until they were mere inches away from each other.

“It really does look black in the moonlight,” Will whispered, feeling Hannibal’s breath ghost over his lips as he stared at the blood on both of them.

Hannibal’s hand came to Will’s hair, bloody fingers running through bloody curls.

“See,” he breathed, “this is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.”

Will considered what they had just done, and a single tear ran down his cheek to mix with the blood. “It’s beautiful,” he said softly.

Hannibal’s arms wrapped around him tightly, and Will closed his eyes, breathing in Hannibal’s scent. He felt Hannibal guide his face up to his own, and they shared a red, wet kiss, their pain not forgotten but shared. Hannibal pulled away, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry, Will,” he then said quietly. “I’ll see you soon, _mylimasis_.”

Will blinked up at him, not understanding, before feeling something sharp in his neck – and then he was sinking into darkness, the sounds of the black waves crashing the last thing he heard.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always thank you for the feedback my lovelies!! we are very very close to the end now, i would say this is probably the second to last chapter. enjoy <3

Chapter 20

At first, there was only darkness. Will felt like he was under water, trying desperately to scramble to the surface but it stayed out of reach. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to the light. So he gave up. He let the darkness pull him back down again, let it wash over him and creep into his eyes and ears and mouth.

When he was aware of himself once more, everything seemed to register one by one. The first thing he felt was pain. Pain shooting up his skull and burning his cheek, pain in his collarbone and shoulder. Then he realised he was hearing a faint beeping sound. After that, muffled conversations, a pillow under his head and a blanket over his body, an uncomfortable sharpness in his arm.

He moaned quietly and tried to sit up, but it was like his body wasn’t his, not responding to the commands his brain was giving it. His eyes fluttered, and with a lot of energy managed to force them open, feeling as though they were glued together.

Will blinked as he stared around a hospital room.

There was a sudden, intense moment of sheer panic as he immediately assumed he was back at the psychiatric hospital, and he gasped, pain shooting up his body as he abruptly regained control and sat up.

“Woah, woah,” came a voice, and he stared as a nurse rushed into the room and carefully but firmly pushed him back down again. “Calm down, now. You’re all right.”

“Wh –” he tried to speak, but his mouth and throat suddenly felt as though they had been stuffed with cotton.

“Here. Drink this,” the nurse said, and she held out a cup with a straw.

Will tentatively took a sip of water, and as soon as he had started he couldn’t stop, finishing the cup in one go.

“There. Feel better now?” the nurse asked kindly.

Will nodded slowly and he cleared his throat a couple of times before attempting to speak again. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital.”

Will blinked, frowning. “I… what happened?”

“You got in quite a scrap, Mister Graham. But you don’t need to worry about that now. You just rest.”

“How long have I been out?”

“A few days. You —”

“A few _days_?”

The nurse nodded. “You have nothing to worry about, Mister Graham. You’re going to be fine.”

“Hannibal,” Will croaked. “Where’s Hannibal?”

The nurse paused, turning to him with a funny look. She hesitated before giving him an obviously forced smile. “Like I said, you have nothing to worry about. You’re safe here.”

Will stared at her. “Safe…? Just – Where’s Hannibal?”

“Rest now,” she said quickly, before leaving without another word.

Will stared after her incredulously, fighting the urge to jump up and run after her. Exhaustion hit him out of nowhere, and despite his best efforts he could feel his eyelids closing. He twitched, trying to fight it, but it was relentless, and he got pulled back down into the darkness.

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“Hello again, Mister Graham. How are you feeling?”

Will blinked at the nurse, his eyes still heavy from sleep. “Fine.”

“Feel well enough for a visitor? There’s someone very anxious to see you.”

Will felt his heart jump and he nodded, forcing himself to sit up slightly. When Alana walked in it was like a slap to the face. He swallowed, trying hard to hide his disappointment.

“Oh my god, Will,” Alana breathed, rushing over to him.

“Hi,” Will said, trying to smile.

“How are you feeling?”

Will managed a weak shrug. “I’m okay. I’ve had better days, though.”

Alana smiled tearfully, and Will averted his gaze, praying silently she wouldn’t properly cry.

“I was so worried. I, um… brought you these.”

Will noticed for the first time that she was holding flowers and he smiled at her. “Thank you. Alana…” he swallowed harshly before continuing. “Where’s Hannibal?”

Alana’s smile disappeared, and she took his hand. “I’m so sorry, Will,” she said quietly.

“What?” he breathed, his whole body stiffening and his heart pounding in his throat. “What, Alana?”

Alana took a breath. “Hannibal… is the Chesapeake Ripper. After what happened with Jack, his place was searched. What they found there –” she stopped, swallowing. “He’s been playing us. He played everyone. God, I’m sorry.”

“Where is he?” Will asked quietly, not being able to bring himself to ask whether he was alive.

Alana pursed her lips and looked down with a sigh.

“Alana,” Will said, his hands starting to shake with panic.

“We… we don’t know. He disappeared.”

Will didn’t even hear what she said after with the relief that came flooding in.

“So he’s alive,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

“Will? Did you hear me?” Alana asked carefully.

He opened his eyes and blinked at her, shaking his head.

“I said he called 911 for you before disappearing. The whole thing with Francis Dolarhyde – Jesus, Will. You’ve been through hell.”

Will said nothing, his mind racing.

“Will?” Alana said.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s… it’s a lot to process.”

She nodded, her eyes sympathetic. “Of course. I understand. I’ll… I’ll leave now. Give you some time to deal with… everything.”

She stood up, putting a careful hand on Will’s shoulder. “I’ll come by again as soon as I can,” she promised.

Will forced a smile at her and nodded. He didn’t know what to think. Hannibal had said he wanted to leave together. Instead, he had drugged him and left. Left him alone without a word, without the knowledge of whether he was alive or not, where he was and if he was safe. To say Will felt hurt was an understatement.

He stared at the flowers Alana had left at the windowsill, at the rest of the flowers around his room. He didn’t even know who half of them were from. He took a breath and closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him again.

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“I’m not gonna lie, it was gruesome.”

Will looked as Beverly leaned back and crossed her arms, a dark look on her face.

“The shit we found in that cellar… Jesus, Will. I’m glad you never had to see it,” she continued.

Will clenched his jaw. “I can imagine.”

“He was right under our noses the whole fucking time. Even Jack… well, I guess he figured it out before anyone else did. Can’t imagine how you feel right now,” she said, her voice careful when she said the last sentence.

“I guess ‘shitty’ would summarise it,” Will said wryly, leaning back onto his pillow.

Beverly nodded. “They gonna let you out soon?”

“Yeah. They’re just keeping me here for observation at this point. I’m guessing I can get out in a day or two.”

“Good. Just… take it easy, yeah? Don’t be too hard on yourself. You couldn’t have known. Lecter was very good at what he did.”

“Yeah,” Will muttered. “Yeah, he was.”

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Will stared at himself in the mirror, at the bruises on his face and the bandage on his cheek. His pale skin and his haunted eyes with purple circles under them. He sighed, stepping away from the mirror and giving his room a last look.

He walked by the flowers, checking the cards to see who had sent them. There was one vase of flowers without a card. Will didn’t know enough about flowers to know what kind they were, but they were beautiful, with purple petals that turned white at the tips. He touched the petals gently, his fingertips brushing against them.

He swallowed before turning around and leaving the room.

But he couldn’t leave the hospital yet. There was something he needed to do.

A small while later, he was stepping into another hospital room, closing the door softly behind him.

“Hello, Jack,” he said quietly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

Jack looked at him, his brow furrowed. “Will.”

“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Will said truthfully.

Jack nodded. “Same here. I heard about what happened to you from Alana and Katz.”

They were quiet for a while.

“Did you know?” Jack then asked quietly.

Will let out a quiet breath, his expression bitter. “No.”

Jack looked at him intently for a few moments, searching his face for anything. Finally, he slowly nodded. “Then I’m sorry.”

Will shook his head. “I should be apologising. You almost died, Jack.”

“You could have been dead, too. Whether it was Hannibal or Dolarhyde. What exactly happened that night, Will? How did you get out alive?”

Will’s fingers tapped on his knee. “Dolarhyde wanted to kill us both, so… we killed him.”

“You and Hannibal?” Jack said darkly.

Will nodded. “I know how it sounds. It was self-defense.”

“I realise that. What I don’t understand is, Hannibal abducts you and takes you to Dolarhyde, and he still helps you kill him?”

Will’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Abducts?”

Jack nodded. “I wasn’t conscious, of course, but to the others, it was pretty clear what happened. Hannibal took you to Dolarhyde to kill you. Didn’t he?”

Will nodded slowly.

“Then how are we talking right now?”

Will took a breath. “I guess… he changed his mind.”

Jack stared at him, expression hard. “He changed his mind.”

Will shrugged, standing up. “How am I supposed to know, Jack? It’s Hannibal. The Chesapeake Ripper. Hell knows why he does what he does.”

“He even got you help,” Jack said slowly.

Will didn’t reply, just crossed his arms and adjusted his glasses.

“You don’t know where he is, do you?” Jack then asked.

Will scoffed. “Come on, Jack.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “And if you did, you would tell me, right?”

Will glared at him. “If I knew anything, I would tell you,” he snapped. “What you’re planning on doing about it from your hospital bed, I don’t know, but I would tell you. All right?”

Jack nodded. “Good.”

Will paused, sighing before briefly putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’m going to go. I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon enough, Will.”

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Will took a cab home, and stepped into the empty house, feeling completely and utterly alone.

His dogs weren’t there to greet him, his neighbour having taken them in while he was in the hospital. The house was dark and quiet, his footsteps creaking on the floor. He sat down on the couch, turning on his laptop for the first time in what felt like years.

It immediately started pinging with emails, the alerts reminding him he had to buy a new cellphone. He had left his at Hannibal’s place, and he could probably get it back from wherever it was right now if he wanted, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to make the effort.

He went to his emails, expression turning dark. Countless emails from Freddie Lounds asking him for an interview about what had happened, a few from Chilton, a couple from Alana.

He took a deep breath, closing the tab, and googled Hannibal.

‘ _HANNIBAL THE CANNIBAL_ ’

Will felt himself flushing red as he read through the countless headlines, the most prominent one being by Tattlecrime, of course. He clicked the article, knowing it was a stupid thing to do. He froze when he saw a picture of himself lying in the hospital bed, the caption describing his injuries and how he had gotten them. Lounds had snuck into his hospital room while he was unconscious. The thought made him shake with rage.

He forced himself to keep reading, the article going into vigorous detail about Hannibal, his murders, the contents of his cellar, his and Will’s relationship, what happened with Dolarhyde, the whole thing ending with a skeptical question about Will’s involvement and his knowledge about the entire ordeal.

When he had finished reading, he calmly closed his laptop, stood up and punched his wall repeatedly, only stopping when he couldn’t feel his knuckles anymore.

He slowly sat back down, staring at the blood running over his hands, remembering when he and Hannibal had held each other in their arms after committing a beautiful act together, blood turned black by moonlight.

He couldn’t comprehend how he could have left. He wanted to yell, he wanted to get into his car and look for him, he wanted to drink himself into oblivion.

He did none of those things. Instead, he got up and went outside. He walked through the woods, not feeling the cold, pouring rain on his skin. He walked and walked, hardly even aware that he was doing it.

He walked until it was pitch-black outside, his fingers and toes numb. Finally, he turned back towards the house, soaked to the bone. It felt like he was in a trance, his feet mechanically moving, not a single thought involved.

Will went inside, closing the door behind him. He peeled off his wet clothes and immediately got into the shower, gasping slightly from the sudden heat on his ice-cold skin.

Then he dried himself off, pulled on a T-shirt and some underwear, and lay in bed.

His bed was cold, unslept in for a while. His hand went to the empty space next to him, coming to rest on the pillow. He stared up at the ceiling, felt his eyes growing wet. There was a churning in his stomach and he abruptly jumped up, making it to the toilet just in time for the contents of his stomach to exit his body violently.

He grunted, head over the toilet bowl, spitting until the bitterness in his mouth lessened. He wiped his mouth then and flushed before brushing his teeth vigorously.

Will walked back to his bedroom, pausing at the door. He realised there was absolutely no way he was going to be sleeping tonight. Especially not in the bed.

So, instead, he walked back to the dark, empty living room, sitting down on heavily on the couch and switching the TV on.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER AAA
> 
> seriously, thank you to everyone who commented, kudo'd & bookmarked. you guys kept me writing <3 i love you all and until next time!!!

Chapter 21

There was a knocking at his door. Will glanced at his phone, debating whether or not to open it. It was early in the morning, and he didn’t have any messages. So it couldn’t be Alana, then. A couple of days had passed and she had called and texted frequently, and he had only responded so she wouldn’t show up at his door unexpectedly again. The same went for Beverly.

There was a faint fluttering of hope in his chest, and this was the only motivation for him to stand up and open the door.

Freddie Lounds smiled up at him brightly.

Will immediately went to shut the door again. She put her foot in the doorway.

“Fuck off,” he said monotonously, debating whether it was worth it to break Freddie’s foot.

“Will, hear me out. I think we can help each other,” she insisted, her foot not moving.

Will scoffed. “Yeah. What could you possibly help me with?”

Freddie edged the door open further with her foot so they could properly see each other again. “Let me inside, and I’ll tell you.”

Will tilted his head and sneered at her. “Does that usually work? You show up at people’s doorsteps, bullshitting that you can help them, and they let you in without further ado? Please.”

“Will, I’m serious,” she said meaningfully, her eyes wide.

“All you want is an interview.”

“Yes,” Freddie paused, “but I can give you something in exchange for that.”

“And what’s that?” Will said nastily, still considering breaking her foot.

“Information,” she said. “On the whereabouts of Hannibal Lecter.”

Will paused, his jaw set, before opening the door to let her in. “Why would I want to know where he is?” he said, walking to his living room as Freddie followed.

She sat down on his couch, smirking at him. “Come on, Will. I’d think the answer is obvious.”

Will took a place at the seat opposite her, and crossed his legs. “He tried to kill me.”

“Or so the story goes.” Freddie paused, crossing her legs as well and leaning forward. “That’s not really true, though, is it?”

Will stared her down, not saying a word, until finally she let out a laugh and leaned back. “Okay, let’s cut the shit. Do you want the information or not?”

Will was quiet for a while, watching her. “Tell you what. You give me the information, and I’ll decide whether it’s good enough or not to allow you to interview me.”

Freddie shook her head. “That’s not how –”

“I don’t care if that’s not how it works, Freddie. I have no reason to help you with anything. Make sure your information is good enough, and you’ll get what you want.”

Freddie pursed her lips, thinking. She glanced down and raised an eyebrow. “What happened to your hands?”

Will smiled. “I did some googling the other night. Like I said, I have no reason to help you with anything.”

Freddie grinned at him before nodding. “All right. The FBI aren’t telling you anything, are they?”

Will shook his head. “With Jack still in the hospital I’m not getting any information, no.”

Freddie looked at him thoughtfully for some time. “Lecter hasn’t left the country. They don’t even think he’s left the state. With the injuries he has, it’s not that surprising. But still… you’d think he’d flee as soon as he could. Why do you think he’s stayed, Will?”

Will was quiet for a moment, observing Freddie. Then he stood. “Yeah, that information wasn’t good enough for an interview. You can see yourself out.”

“I’d be worried if I were you, Will. Unless…” she paused, tilting her head. “Unless you’re waiting for him to come see you.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Get out.”

Freddie stood up, sighing and brushing down her skirt. “All right. But think about this. This interview wouldn’t just be for me. It would also be a way for you to… reach out to him. To send him a message. Get my drift?”

Will smiled. “Get out of my house, Freddie.”

She smirked at him. “Call me when you change your mind.”

The door shut behind her, and he stood there in the living room for a long time, thinking about what she’d said despite himself.

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His days consisted of sleeping and lying on his couch. The feeling of constantly being watched accompanied those days, but he tried to ignore it as best as he could. He knew the FBI had enough reasons to think if Hannibal was going to turn up, it would be at his house. And if it wasn’t the FBI watching him – he didn’t let himself continue on that trail of thought for too long.

False hope was even worse than loneliness.

He still hadn’t gotten his dogs back. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t bring himself to go to his neighbour and collect them. It felt… final, somehow. No matter how much he missed them – and he missed them a lot – getting his dogs back made the fact that he was returning to his old life absolute. His life before Hannibal.

He couldn’t bring himself to accept that yet. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to.

But it was better to keep that in mind rather than expect Hannibal to show up at his doorstep at any given moment.

He needed to keep up appearances, of course – he’d had lunch with Alana a couple of times, drinks with Beverly. Couldn’t let anyone know how much he was actually missing Hannibal. How he had already known who Hannibal was before the Dragon got to them, although, admittedly it wasn’t that long before.

And speaking of appearances, he had agreed to meet with Beverly in a couple of hours. As little as he actually wanted to get out of the house, he was grateful it was Beverly this time and not Alana. Alana meant well, she really did, but she had that way of getting under his skin by being too sympathetic and too concerned for his wellbeing. With Beverly, he knew there was no bullshit. He could relax a fraction with her.

He was reconsidering that when a few hours later, she asked him, “So have you been drinking yourself to death again then?”

Will gave her a sour look, popping a piece of food into his mouth. Beverly raised her hands in defense. “Hey, don’t give me that look. It’s not like it’s an unusual thing for you, and I know how shitty you’ve been feeling.”

Will chewed and swallowed, avoiding her gaze. “No, I haven’t, actually. I’ve only had a couple of glasses since I got home from the hospital.”

Beverly nodded. “Good. I can’t have you being a wreck. Not right now.” She waved her fork around for emphasis. “You haven’t been coming into work, so I’ve been trying to think of what you could be doing all day long.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “I… haven’t felt up to working just yet.”

“I know. And that’s fine, for now. But soon Jack’s going to come out of the hospital, and things are gonna go back to normal again. You can’t stay in this… limbo, forever.”

Will snorted. “Back to normal? I don’t think that’s possible anymore.”

Beverly was quiet for a moment. “I guess that all depends on whether or not we’re going to find Hannibal Lecter.”

Will made a non-committal sound, avoiding her eyes.

“Do you want us to find him?” Beverly then asked quietly.

Will glanced up at her, frowning.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Look, I would understand if you didn’t. I don’t know him like you do. And for all the evidence, everything he did… he’s… something other than human. Something we don’t have a name for yet. But I understand, Will… I know that he was more human with you than he ever was.”

Will still said nothing, looking down at his food and furiously fighting the burning feeling in his eyes.

“I’ll never pretend to understand how he felt for you,” Beverly continued. “But I do know that it means a lot, coming from someone like him. And I can’t imagine how much this all must suck for you.”

With that last sentence, she nudged his leg with her foot, making him look up at her. She gave him a sad smile, and Will forced a smile back.

“I’ve got a bottle of scotch at home, if you’re interested in getting shitfaced with company tonight,” Beverly then said, her voice carefully playful.

Will chuckled. “Nah, I think I’m good. Kinda…. want to keep my head clear for now.”

He knew how close he was to his breaking point right now, and he knew that alcohol would just encourage him to tip over.

“Fair enough. Like I said before, though….”

“I’ll call you when I feel like I’m starting to get bad. Yeah.”

She nodded, and they finished their meals in silence.

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Will stood on his porch, and paused when he saw the door was open. He clenched his fists, suspecting Freddie had taken the liberty of inviting herself in while he was gone. The house was quiet when he stepped inside, pitch-black, none of the lights having been switched on.

His heart gave a small flutter, and he crushed it down, quietly closing the door behind him and slowly walking towards the living room.

He saw a dark figure sitting on the couch, absolutely still. His breath stopped in his throat, and he switched the light on.

“Hello, Will,” Hannibal said, looking at him with his legs crossed and his hands folded in his lap.

Will stared at him for a moment, his face grim, before walking to his drink’s cabinet and pouring them both a finger of whiskey.

He handed a glass to Hannibal before sitting down opposite him. Hannibal was looking as immaculate as ever, not a single crease in his suit and his hair neatly styled the way he always wore it. The only thing different about him were the circles under his eyes, which were more pronounced. Will took a breath and closed his eyes, leaning back into his chair.

“What the fuck, Hannibal.”

Hannibal tutted at the language, not giving any further response.

Will searched for words for a long time, until he finally uttered, “Explain.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “Are you angry with me, Will?”

Will scoffed, the sound desperate in his ears. “You left, Hannibal. You fucking drugged me and then you left. I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”

“I have never been far.”

“Whatever happened to our plan, huh? To leaving all of this when everything with Dolarhyde was done?”

“Will, I was hurt. Too hurt to travel, too hurt to do anything to help us. I needed time to recover.”

Will was quiet for a moment. “You’ve been watching me.”

Hannibal shook his head. “Chiyoh has, after I asked her to. I was in no position to be watching you myself.”

“Where have you been staying?”

Hannibal took a sip of his drink. “A safehouse.”

Will scoffed again. “How many of those do you have around the world?”

Hannibal smiled. “A few.”

Will leaned forward. “You could have at least told me what you were going to do. You fucking drugged me.”

“I had to. You and I both know that if I hadn’t, you would have never agreed to this. We both needed time to recuperate. I had been shot, Will, in case you had forgotten. However resilient I may be, even I need proper care and time to recover from that.”

Will’s hand was tight around his glass. “You could have at least left me a message.”

Hannibal shook his head. “That would have been too risky. It was already extremely risky for me to not leave the country, never mind send you a message when the FBI and Freddie Lounds have been watching so closely.”

Will shook his head wordlessly, his lips thin with anger.

Hannibal gave a small smile. “Do you want to punch me again, Will?”

Will clenched and unclenched his fists, considering this. “Yes. But I won’t.”

“Are you too afraid it’s going to end up like it did the last time we fought?” Hannibal’s voice was mocking, but Will knew better by now.

“No. I want you to acknowledge that you hurt me, for once. You’re not perfect, Hannibal – despite what everyone says, you’re human. You make mistakes.”

Hannibal was quiet for a long time before setting his glass on the table, standing up and walking over to Will. He reached out a hand, and Will stared at it, not moving.

“I’m sorry, Will. I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s the last thing I want to do,” Hannibal said softly, still holding his hand out. “I sometimes feel it is necessary to do certain things in order to achieve greater goals. I do not always take into account the pain I may be causing you. Forgive me, _mylamisis_.”

Will heaved a great sigh before taking Hannibal’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled up. Hannibal pulled him close, Will’s face in his shoulder. Hannibal’s hand ran along his cheek and they moved so they were facing one another. Will closed his eyes, relishing how unfathomably _right_ it felt to be back together. He leaned forward and kissed Hannibal. The kiss was desperate and hungry, and Will pulled back before it could go too far.

“What now?” he whispered then. “I know you have a plan. What do we do?”

Hannibal smiled, before pulling away and walking to Will’s drink’s cabinet. “May I?”

Will nodded and Hannibal stood with his back to him, pouring them two more glasses of whiskey.

“I understand Jack is alive,” Hannibal then said, handing the drink to Will. The latter nodded.

“Good for him,” Hannibal said sincerely.

Will snorted, taking a sip and running his hands through his hair. “You were going to kill him.”

Hannibal nodded. “I’m glad I didn’t have to.”

There was a short silence, and Will took another drink. “How’s your stomach?” Will then asked quietly. He gently moved Hannibal’s shirt upwards to reveal his bandaged abdomen.

“Better, with many thanks to Chiyoh. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

Will tilted his head, frowning. “I still need time to figure out the exact relationship between the two of you.”

Hannibal smiled. “I’m afraid it’s more complicated than simple words could explain.”

Will sat down again heavily. “You never answered my question.”

“Which one was that?”

Will snorted, his limbs feeling heavier by the second. “The one about… what we’re going to do.”

“You were right, Will. I do have a plan. You’re not going to like it, I’m afraid.”

Will frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I’m going to need you to be unconscious for a while.”

“I don’t think so,” Will snapped, slumping back on his seat. He paused, and looked at his drink. “Wait…”

“Let me take that,” Hannibal said, carefully taking the glass from Will’s hand before running his hands through Will’s hair.

“You…” Will swallowed, struggling to speak. “You put something… something in the drink. You… drugged me… _again_.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask for your forgiveness one more time, Will,” Hannibal said gently, regret in his voice.

“No…” Will murmured. “No, fucking… no.”

The last thing he saw before sinking into darkness was Hannibal’s face staring down at him, remorse in his eyes.

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Will had the strange feeling he was floating. He could feel himself moving, but he wasn’t moving his legs. His feet weren’t touching the ground. It was incredibly confusing and he wanted nothing more than to find out what exactly was happening to him, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t open his eyes. He heard a soft groan, and realised it had come from his own throat.

“He must be awake,” he heard a voice say, but it sounded like it was underwater. In fact, his head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and concentrating on even a single sound was so difficult it threatened to summon a headache.

He had the strangest sensation of being lifted into the air, until he was set down on something soft and forgiving. He let out another moan, not being able to utter anything else.

“Hush, Will,” came a gentle voice. A voice he would recognise anywhere, at any time.

“Hannibal,” he said, or at least he tried to say. It came out more like, “Hunmmph.”

“Sleep, my love,” came the same voice that comforted Will to his bones. “Sleep.”

And so Will did exactly that.

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Will woke up in a strange bed, in a strange bedroom with strange light coming in through the windows. He was alone.

He tried to call out, but his throat was so dry all he could manage was a rasp. He glanced beside him and saw a conveniently placed glass of water on the bedside table. He reached out for it, almost drunkenly, and finished it all in one go.

He had an incredible headache. It was one of the worst ones he’d ever had, and it creeped into his skull, pounding and becoming worse with the minute.

He groaned, throwing the blankets off of himself and standing up with difficulty. As he made his way down the hallway and down the stairs, he realised he could smell bacon cooking.

He padded through the unfamiliar house, following the smell of food until he ended up in the kitchen. Hannibal was standing there with his back to him, cooking what appeared to be breakfast. Will had no idea what time it was, or even what day.

“Will,” Hannibal said, turning around and walking over to him. “How are you feeling?”

Will stood still for a moment as Hannibal did several small checks; feeling his pulse, checking his pupils.

“Headache,” Will managed to ground out then, and Hannibal pursed his lips before leaving the room, swiftly returning with a couple of pills which he handed to Will.

Will swallowed them with the glass of water Hannibal gave him, and sat down at the table shakily.

“Where are we?” he then asked, his voice still rough.

Hannibal waited a moment before answering. “Florence.”

Will was quiet for a long time. “Florence, Italy?”

Hannibal turned to him with a small smile. “Yes.”

Will closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “How.”

“With some time.”

“You drugged me. Again.”

Hannibal looked at him with regret. “I did.”

He joined Will at the table, setting down plates of bacon and scrambled eggs before them.

“Hannibal.”

“Yes?” Hannibal asked, looking up.

Will leaned forward, gaze piercing into Hannibal’s eyes. “If you ever drug me again, I will fucking kill you. And I mean that.”

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed a fraction, and he gave a nod. “Understood.”

“Why did you do it?”

Hannibal gestured to Will to dig in before answering. “I made it look like I abducted you. Surveillance footage will confirm that. Chiyoh acted as your nurse while I was your partner, and we transported you in a wheelchair.” Hannibal paused. “No one will know, Will. It is obvious that you are unconscious the entire time. Everyone will think I abducted you.”

Will was silent for a moment, processing this. “Why?” he then asked incredulously.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, his eyes on his plate as he ate. “I know how much those relationships meant to you, Will. I didn’t want them to be ruined because of me.”

 Will frowned, leaning back in his chair. The headache was starting to subside, thankfully, and he was able to concentrate better for it.

“Why Florence?”

Hannibal paused, and he looked up with a smile. “I’ve always liked Florence. I want to show it to you.”

“Where’s Chiyoh?”

“Gone. She’s helped me tremendously with everything, but now there’s nothing left for her to do. I assume she’s gone back to her own life.”

“How long have I been out for?”

Hannibal looked down again. “A few days. You woke up throughout, of course, and I continued to put you back to sleep.”

“Hannibal…”

Hannibal paused, tilting his head at Will. “Yes?”

“What… what does this mean? Is it over?” Will asked slowly.

Hannibal nodded. “It’s over. There’s nothing left to worry about, Will.”

Will stood, swaying slightly. Hannibal stood as well, hand going out automatically to steady Will.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Will then announced, and turned without another word.

Once he had finally located the bathroom, he pulled off the pajamas he was wearing, stepping under the hot water. He stood under the water for a long time, not doing anything. When he heard the door open he didn’t even look up.

A few moments later Hannibal opened the shower door. “Mind if I join you?” he asked quietly.

Will shrugged, not looking at him. Hannibal stepped in with him, and they were quiet for a while as the water ran over Hannibal.

“Will, what’s the matter?” Hannibal then asked gently, his hands on his Will’s arms.

Will shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess it’s… it’s a bit much, right now.”

Hannibal nodded. “Do you want me to leave you?”

Will shook his head, closing his eyes and letting the water run down his face. “I just… is this real?”

He felt Hannibal pull him close, his mouth at his ear. “This is real, Will. I am here. We are here together.”

Will bit his lip, and his arms snaked around Hannibal. “Thank fuck for that,” he whispered, and he felt rather than heard Hannibal chuckle.

Will leaned back abruptly. “Just so you know, I’m not okay with the whole… secretly feeding me people for months thing.”

Hannibal nodded solemnly. “I completely understand.”

“So don’t feed me people.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “But…”

Will grit his teeth. “But do whatever you want.” He softened. “It’s who you are, and I’m not going to try and change that. Just… promise me that they will always deserve it. Don’t murder innocent people.”

“I only kill people who deserve it, Will.” Hannibal sounded amused.

Will scoffed, not replying.

“Will,” Hannibal then said, sounding urgent. He gripped Will’s face. “It’s over, Will. We’re safe.”

Will looked at him for a long time, not saying anything. Even though he knew Hannibal would never say so, and if he didn’t know him so well he’d never be able to tell, he could see uncertainty growing in Hannibal’s eyes with every second that passed. Finally, he smiled, running his fingertips over Hannibal’s lips.

“I know,” he whispered, and the realisation of it finally sunk in, settled into his skin, the marrow of his bones. “I know.”

Hannibal tilted his head, his hand at the back of Will’s head. “Are you happy?” he asked quietly, and Will heard the unasked questions that came with it. _Are you having second thoughts? Are you regretting this? Do you want to go back?_

“I’m happy,” Will whispered, and he kissed Hannibal, deeply and with everything he had. He pulled away briefly, already breathless. “I love you,” he then said quietly.

Hannibal smiled, his face lighting up as he ran a hand through Will’s hair. “And I love you.”

“Is all of this going to work out? Are you sure we’re safe?” Will then asked, not being able to shake the fear.

Hannibal pursed his lips, thoughtful. “I don’t know with certainty. And if we’re not, we’ll simply move somewhere else. That is… if you’ll come with me.”

Will was quiet for a while. “I’d follow you anywhere.”

Hannibal leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of Will’s mouth. He leaned back, his eyes hungry. “Turn around,” he murmured.

Will happily complied, hands pressing into the steamy glass of the shower door.

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“Freddie Lounds is dead,” Will said quietly.

“Is that so?” Hannibal said with a gleam in his eyes, the plastic suit covering his clothes shining in the low light of the living room.

Will sniffed. “Yep. And get this, she was murdered on the same day she came to visit me to ask me for an interview. What a coincidence.”

“A rather unfortunate one, for her.”

Will looked up at him. “Was this a parting gift to the FBI?”

Hannibal gave a small shrug. “Mainly to Jack. Although I must say I’d been planning on killing Miss Lounds for a while. The opportunity had finally presented itself.”

“Huh,” Will said, his tone revealing nothing.

Hannibal leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “I’m going out, as you can see. Don’t wait up.” The last sentence was said with a discrete smile.

Will raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

They considered each other for a while in silence.

“You want to know what he’s done to deserve me… visiting him tonight,” Hannibal then said quietly.

Will tilted his head. “I want to know what this person has done to deserve you murdering and then cannibalising them, yes.”

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed a fraction. He apparently decided to let Will’s rudeness slip, however. “He raped and murdered a twelve-year-old girl.”

Will blinked, swallowing harshly. “Police?”

Hannibal shook his head. “Incompetent. They haven’t managed to find him.”

“But you found him?”

Hannibal gave a gracious nod.

Will scoffed before sighing. “I’m not even going to ask how because you’ll give me some cryptic answer about ‘having your ways’. But what I don’t understand is why you’re acting like some vigilante killer. That’s not who you are.”

Hannibal tilted his head, taking a while to answer. “Because… I suppose I’m trying to take your feelings into consideration.”

Will stared at him. “How… thoughtful,” he said quietly.

Hannibal gave him an exasperated look for the sarcasm. He paused then, trailing a gloved finger down Will’s face before reaching out a hand.

“You know…” Hannibal said softly before pausing, seemingly in thought as he stared down at Will. “You are always welcome to join me,” he said carefully after a long moment.

Will looked at him for a long time, the dark feelings he had now accepted as part of his identity seeping into his bones. He gave a small shudder, remembering Dolarhyde. How good it had felt. How good it had felt sharing that experience with Hannibal. His common sense was screaming at him to say no, screaming at him to be disgusted by the mere thought, let alone the offer Hannibal was making him. Despite all this, he could feel a small smile tugging at his lips.

He looked up at Hannibal, who was waiting patiently, and took his hand, letting himself be pulled up. Hannibal gave him a rare grin, leaning forward to kiss him, before they both left the house and disappeared into the darkness of the night.


End file.
